


Chemistry

by PurplePatchwork



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Crushes, First Love, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Pursuing a relationship, Sexual Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 20:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 45,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurplePatchwork/pseuds/PurplePatchwork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred has the hots for their chemistry professor's Russian assistant. As he begins pursuing him, he finds Ivan's disinterested behaviour to come from a much different source...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I want to lick the science

Alfred sighed dreamily, leaning forward on his desk. There, next to their chemistry teacher, was Ivan Braginsky, professor Munch’s junior assistant. Ever since he’d first entered the classroom, Alfred had fallen for him. Hard. He wanted to tussle up those snowy platinum locks, drown in those pools of violet, slowly undress him and reveal more marble skin, “Alfred,” he wanted to kiss him breathless, tickle his feet, lick his cheek­­­—

“Alfred!”

He shot up, startled. His best friend Kiku sat next to him, eyebrow cocked and arms crossed before his chest. Alfred slowly let his gaze wander back to the front of the class. Everyone was staring at him, including the professor (but with pain in his heart he noticed, not including Ivan, who was still immersed in the experiment).

“Ah, so mister Jones has finally decided to re-join us,” professor Munch dryly commented, making Alfred frown. It wasn’t like he was a bad student—on the contrary. He excelled at the classes that truly interested him, and scored above average on everything else. Studying had never been difficult to the boy, being gifted with eidetic memory and all that jazz. Professor Munch seemed to think otherwise (despite knowing his name which clearly meant he was famous among the teaching staff).

“Now then, let us continue without any further interruptions. We still have an experiment to conduct!”

Ivan had already finished the preparations, and now took a step back so the prof could explain what he was about to do. Alfred only had eyes for the assistant though. Watching Ivan watching professor Munch with hooded eyes, an expression that oozed disinterest. But Alfred knew it was to change soon, and waited with beating heart. And right then, when the liquid in the test tube boiled up to create a dense foam, Ivan’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July, sparked oh so beautifully at knowing the experiment was a success, and Alfred fell for him all over again.

The love-struck young adult slumped over his desk, holding back a small moan as he drank in that focused expression, eyes smouldering before snapping away from the test tube once all interesting effects had faded away. Alfred wished with all his heart Ivan would look at him that way, as if he was the most fascinating object of desire, wanted to be handled with care and—

“Alfred, class is over.”

He pouted as Kiku poked incessantly at his shoulder. “Geesh Keeks, let a man dream for a little while.”

Kiku looked at Ivan, who was currently putting away equipment while Munch answered a student’s question, and then back at Alfred, still sprawled over his desk like a content kitty. “You have issues.”

Alfred sighed pathetically and got up once Ivan left the room, there being no point left in staying here. Kiku wanted to leave to, since he still had a class after this, while Alfred had the rest of the day off. Before he could leave though, the professor beckoned for him to come closer. Alfred groaned, already knowing what storm was hanging over his head.

“I swear I was paying attention.“

“You didn’t look like you were,” Munch replied, giving him a look that left no room for protest. “Alfred, I know you’re a smart kid, but if you don’t come to my classes to pay attention, please, just don’t come at all. You’re bothering the others with your constant sighing and whining.”

Alfred felt his cheeks flare. Had he really let out all those sounds he thought had been held back or perfectly disguised by coughs?

“You excel in science classes. We all know you love chemistry. So why doesn’t it show in your behaviour?”

“I do love it Harold—“ “It’s still professor Munch for you.” “Yeah, yeah, sure mister M, what I’m saying is that I do love it, but I’ve already seen and/or done most of this stuff. When are we getting to the really interesting bits?”

“Look, it isn’t my fault I have a curriculum to follow,” Munch sighed, stuffing his laptop into his bag, “but every student deserves to learn about these subjects. I know you’re far ahead of most others, but you still have to do your best. Maybe, if you truly think this is all so easy, you could try helping out next time? I’m sure Bragomsky—“ “Braginsky, sir.” “Yes, him—I’m sure he wouldn’t mind having a partner. Or maybe someone to take some work-load off of him, as he also helps me correct essays and exams all the time. Go talk to him, you might like him. I certainly wouldn’t mind the extra help. And don’t worry Jones, more difficult subject matter _will_ come further along your educational career.”

Alfred stood frozen as professor Munch exited the classroom. He and Kiku were the only two left in there now, his friend having overheard the entire conversation.

“Alfred, I do not think you should—“

“No freakin’ way,” Alfred breathed, a huge grin slowly making its way onto his face. “No freakin’ way! Keeks, did you hear that?”

“Loud and clear,” Kiku groaned, rolling his eyes. Now Alfred’s obsession was only going to grow. Grow and grow and grow, evolve into some monstrous infestation.

Alfred jumped in ecstasy and fist-pumped the air.

“CAN I GET A HELL YEAH?!”


	2. Action and Reaction

Alfred was leaning against a wall in the hallway, waiting with beating heart for his Russian sweetheart to pass by—which he certainly would, because the professor’s office was at the end of the hall and it was almost time for lunch. He checked his watch, waited, clicked his heel against the linoleum, checked his watch again. Then finally—the door opened!

Alfred bounced up like an excited puppy when his personal Adonis came into view. Ivan had a bunch of books stacked in his arms, lips never ceasing to move as he muttered things to himself, possibly calculations or tasks he didn’t want to forget about. And those eyes, those lovely eyes, oh God Alfred would kill for those eyes they were so fucking beautiful not even kidding here.

Alfred plastered on a huge grin and pushed himself off the wall. “Hi Ivan!” he chirruped, sticking up his hand in greeting. Ivan walked straight past him. Alfred had to take a moment to process the lack of reciprocation, before he spun on his heels and bounded after his prey, uh, love interest.

“Hey, wait a minute! Hey you! Ivan! I’m talking to you!”

Finally, Ivan’s rapid walking pattern was disturbed, and he came to a stuttering halt. Those beautiful eyes blinked against the light, before he looked over his shoulder with a vague sense of irritation. Alfred didn’t let that stop him from approaching his idol, though his grin _did_ become a tad more nervous.

“Yes, you. Hi!”

“You know my name,” Ivan stated, not even trying to make that sentence into a question. His voice was soft and made Alfred’s heart do a little flop, him only now realising just how close he was to his crush. The other was obviously taller, and the dark looming of his half-lidded eyes sent a buzzing electricity between them which he was certain Ivan would take notice of.

“Well yeah, Munchkin told us your name at the beginning of the first class, remember? Actually, he said it wrong so you had to correct him,” he helped remind Ivan, hoping the other didn’t notice Alfred eyeing him like a nice piece of meat, and what a fineeeee piece he was. He usually never got that close to Ivan, only admiring him from afar, but now he got a full view on the other’s bulk. The man wore big oversized sweaters so his true figure wasn’t quite clear, but Alfred all but moaned when he discovered the outlines of Ivan’s chest (it would make a perfect pillow for after-sex snuggling…wait what).

Ivan’s eyelids lowered further, their teacher’s nickname apparently not being to his liking. “So he did. Is that all?”

“Huh?” Alfred snapped back, blush threatening to spill onto his face from the thoughts previously plaguing his Ivan-obsessed brain. “Oh uh, no! That’s not it at all! What I really came to ask is—or actually, more offer, well but you could say—“

“I have a busy schedule,” Ivan rudely interrupted, about to get fed-up with the bundle of energy buzzing at his feet. “If you have a question about the class, you should ask professor Munch or send me an email, but I do not—“

“I don’t have a question!” Alfred jumped in, literally moving forward (even startling Ivan back a millimetre or two, not that he would ever acknowledge that). “I just came to give you my assistance!”

“…Your what?”

Alfred’s grin grew sheepish, the blush painting his ears red. “Yeah! You just said so yourself, you have a busy schedule! I could help you set up the experiments before class, carry around your stuff and such, and I—“

 _“Nyet._ ”

“Njet?”

“It means no.”

“Oh…huh?”

Ivan leant in close, not perceiving the violent shudders this drew from Alfred’s overheating senses. “I do not need an assistant. You will probably only get in the way. Students have enough work to do on their own, you should stick to that.”

And without further ado he was marching off, books pressed tightly to his chest as he made even more haste to get a sandwich and some coffee before lunchbreak was over. If only Alfred hadn’t been born stubborn, it would’ve been the last he heard from the other. He quickly resumed his pursuit.

“Wait a sec! You can’t just bail on me—stop running!”

Ivan jerked to a halt a second time, looking angry when he turned back to Alfred. “If you want to score extra points you won’t do so by stealing my work.”

Alfred put his hands up in defence, quickly explaining himself before Ivan could run off again. “Hey, it wasn’t my idea! Munch said I could help you!”

These words made Ivan pause. His eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. Dangerous. Sexy. “He said _what_?”

Oops. Apparently Ivan didn’t take kindly to potential threats to his degree, as Alfred finally realised the other perceived him as. Not a helpful hand, but an enemy. Yes, share the workload, and then have Alfred steal all the praise.

“J-just because I’ve already seen a lot of this stuff before! He thinks it’ll keep me busy—not that I think being around you would be boring or out of obligation, just that, I, um…” He politely shut himself off, noticing how Ivan wasn’t focused on him anymore. He was seething.

“I told him I work alone, that I can handle the workload, I _told_ him. You.” Alfred eeped, hands shooting up in surrender when Ivan pointed a threatening finger at his chest. “You stay. Right. Here. Do not move a muscle. I will ask professor Munch what this nonsense is about.”

The dangerous way in which the Russian was acting right now was oddly exciting to Alfred, and he nodded meekly before Ivan darted past him and back to the office where he and his boss spent most of their time. While Ivan was inside, discussing the facts he had just learnt about, Alfred’s mind was flooded with less appropriate thoughts, most of them involving Ivan using that rumbling growl in all kinds of bedroom situations. Which is probably why he jumped when that Russian hunk stormed back into the hallway.

His face was the perfect imitation of a thunderstorm about to break loose. “You start tomorrow. Make sure you are here in time. And I swear, if you turn out to be useless I will come into your bedroom and gut you.” After which he ran off the final time that day, stomping on the floor with heavy and anger-fuelled steps.

Alfred still wasn’t sure whether he was going to pass out from all the excitement or spontaneously combust. A bit in a daze he walked through the building, down the stairs, into the cafeteria. Kiku was already waiting for him.

“And?” he asked, feigning interest in the other’s love life.

“…He’s so hot when he’s angry.”

Kiku groaned.


	3. The key elements to a successful meeting

Alfred stayed up late to prepare himself for the next chemistry class, only going to bed after Kiku threw a pillow at his head (he was sharing a small apartment—existing of three rooms and shared bathroom with other apartments—with his BFF to make the rent less of a worry). While he usually stumbled into class only a second before the professor began teaching (or sometimes after it), he was present at exactly twenty-four minutes before the lecture would commence that day. Anything to make a good impression on his beloved sexy piece of man. Since Ivan wasn’t there yet, he put on a coat and safety goggles (good thing he had contacts for these occasions) and decided to wander through the room for a little while.

This university spent quite a lot of money on their chemistry program, for which Alfred was glad. While he was actually going for a degree in astronomy, chemistry was definitely one of his favourite subjects (and not only because Ivan was there). He hoped to work for NASA someday, who knows, maybe even go to space as an astronaut. (Insert dreamy sigh.)

The blond was just testing out a Bunsen burner when Ivan walked into the classroom. Alfred froze, as if caught doing something bad, but Ivan walked straight to the front of the room to drop off his bags without sparing a single glance his direction. Alfred quickly turned the burner back off and skidded to his new lab partner.

It was only when he was standing on the opposite side of the desk that Ivan seemed to become aware of his presence. His shoulders hunched back instinctively, and those (amazing lovely beautiful gorgeous) eyes of his snapped to Alfred’s figure. Once he had established an absence of any danger, his gaze slowly sauntered back to the schedule he had been reading.

“…You actually came here earlier than me. I am…impressed.”

Alfred felt like doing a little tap dance at being complimented like that, but managed to keep it in his pants. “Yeah, you told me to be here on time, so…yeah.” Mmmmh, did that sound a little too fanboyish? …Nah.

Ivan nodded absentmindedly. “All right then. You go grab an Erlenmeyer, then we can set up the experiment professor Munch wants to conduct today.”

Alfred bounded to the cabinet happy like a kid who got to see his dad again on Christmas after thinking for five years he’d died–or something. Ivan was praising him! Ivan was ordering him around! Ivan was going to bend him over a table and fuck him raw–well maybe not today, but if he could let their relationship progress in such high spirits, that was definitely a possible future! Alfred bit his lip to keep in a sudden hysterical giggle, hoping the blush didn’t show on his face. He was such a romantic soul.

While he got the equipment ready, Ivan put on a lab coat as well. Alfred hoped to catch a flash of naked skin, but he was once again wearing a thick turtleneck that completely concealed any bit of godlike pale marble. The boy wasn’t going to let that discourage him however, since he finally had Ivan all to himself for at least ten more minutes!

“So, Ivan. That’s a Russian name, right?”

He shrunk a little when Ivan looked at him like he was a moron, but kept the smile on his face. To show your enemy–or love interest in this case–you were afraid, was to surrender. And dammit, he’d only just begun! Surrendering now just wasn’t an option.

“… _Da_ ,” Ivan allowed, deciding he could humour his new assistant now that everything was set up. “Did you have to think hard to figure that out?”

Alfred’s eye twitched, his smile growing a little strained. Ivan wasn’t going to make this easy on him. But Alfred loooooved a challenge. Game on, Braginsky.

“Well no, but I figured it’d be a nice conversation starter. I can now see that was the wrong thing to think,” he said light-heartedly, leaning forward on the desk. It could have been his imagination, but Alfred swore he could see the other smirk at that.

“And I suppose you have a very American name?”

Alfred blinked. Had he…had he forgotten to introduce himself? Ivan really didn’t know his name? …Really? His back snapped taut as he shot off the desk, and his right hand was plunged forward. “Alfred F. Jones at your service!”

Ivan looked coolly at his hand, then at his face. He didn’t shake his hand. “Do not think simply because you were here on time that this means I like you now. Perhaps if you had made yourself more noticeable before…”

“But I always sit in the first row during chemistry!” His mouth snapped shut when Ivan frowned, blush finally breaking through. If Ivan were to find out he sat there to watch him… Ah shit, he must know now! About Alfred desperately wanting to work with Ivan, sitting in front of the room, blushing when he mentioned it…the signs were all there. Ivan had to notice–

“Like I said,” Ivan continued, letting his gaze wander through the room, supported by an utterly bored expression, “I would have noticed you had you made yourself noticeable. Which means you do not perform well in the classes, which means you are not worth my time. And even if you were–I did not come to this university to look for a partner, but to look for a job. So just do what I tell you to do and stop wasting my time.”

Alfred deflated at the exact same moment Ivan turned away from him and the first students began filing into the room. Ivan had no idea who he was. Not only that, he apparently thought he was just some slacker not even worth bothering with. His idol thought extremely lowly of him…

The professor entered last-minute, apologising for getting stuck in traffic. He thanked Ivan for getting everything ready for him, and smiled in surprise when he found Alfred there as well. By the time he began his class, Alfred had made a decision.

He was going to make himself worth Ivan’s time. He was going to start working super hard, prove himself worthy of being noticed. He was going to earn Ivan’s attention, and then they were finally going to have their real first date! In the name of science, Ivan would be his before the year was out!


	4. Elemental Bonding

The following weeks, Alfred worked harder than he ever had. Not only did he make sure to be earlier than Ivan to get a head’s start, he actually began paying attention in class and answering questions. He tried to chat with Ivan after class, but the other was always so busy that he left as soon as professor Munch stopped teaching. Alfred thought about asking him for additional lessons, but Ivan was already so busy that he’d probably just get angry with him for eating up his free time. Man, he was really too immersed in his work!

On the other hand, that was what Alfred loved about Ivan. Not only was he incredibly hot (swoon), he was so undeniably dedicated. And chemistry was his passion; Alfred could see it in his eyes. That spark of excitement whenever an experiment succeeded, that little smile he got when finally finding the solution to a long unsolved problem. Since setting up experiments didn’t always take up all of their time, especially now that Alfred was there to help, Ivan had more time to work on his own projects. And Alfred lived for watching him work.

“Making any progress?” Kiku asked him once during lunch, pleased to see Alfred’s dedication to the course, even if it had the wrong reasons.

Alfred wanted to say “of course!” and “duh, it’s me, remember”. But he simply didn’t know. Ivan still hadn’t really opened up to him. He wasn’t as hostile anymore, nodding a greeting when he came in to find Alfred waiting, answering with “fine” when Alfred asked him how his day had been, but other than that…

“I don’t know Keeks. But I’m still not giving up. I just have to show him ultimate dedication!” he huffed, swinging his knife and fork about.

“Are you sure he’s even gay?” Kiku asked in return. “Maybe he’s ace. Or in love with his job. I’ve never seen him look at anyone with interest, girl or boy.”

Alfred swallowed heavily, slumping over the table. “Well as long as he won’t talk to me I’ll never find out, will I? Or maybe I should show up in a thong, see how he reacts…”

Kiku hesitated, then patted him sympathetically on the back. “Hey, if he’s so interested in chemistry, why not try talking about that instead? He might open up if you really show interest in his favourite topic.”

That gave Alfred his moxie back. “Yeah, I’ll try that! Thanks Keeks, you’re the best!”

Kiku smiled delicately, hoping he had made the right choice. “Don’t mention it.”

* * *

Alfred was nervous. Ivan was standing next to him, delicately pouring substances into test tubes. He had incredibly long eyelashes. They were a dark grey at the base, and almost pure white at the fine tips. Alfred just had to reach out and he could touch them. A weird needy something made a knot in his stomach, and he swallowed.

“So uh…when did you figure out you loved chemistry?”

“How do you know I _love_ chemistry?” Ivan countered dryly. Obviously he was just being coy. Alfred knew the truth.

“Well,” Alfred began, counting on his fingers, “you fought to work at this university, which has one of the best chemistry programs in the country, you’re incredibly busy but I never hear you complain, you always seem super pleased when we get to do experiments, you uh…” He trailed off when he saw the expression Ivan wore while staring at him. Eyebrows way up, disappearing behind his bangs, mouth a straight line but not terse, as if perplexed, and was that a faint dust of pink by his ears?

“Have you been stalking me?” Ivan asked sceptically, tilting his head to the side with his eyebrows dropping into a contemplative frown.

Alfred’s hands shot up. “N-no! It’s just that, Munchkin–sorry, I mean professor Munch, he talks about you a lot!”

The frown disappeared again, and Ivan now looked a mixture of confused and something akin to flattered. “…He does? To the students?”

“Well…I don’t know about the other students, but I talk to him outside of class sometimes,” Alfred admitted, awkwardly scratching his neck. On the inside, he was buzzing. They were finally having a more or less normal conversation! “And he often talks about you.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. Munch did talk about Ivan a lot—just not out of his own volition, but because Alfred didn’t let a chance go by to ask him about his idol. “You uh…you really sound like you’ve got your future all planned out, and stuff. Like you know what you’re doing.” Alfred’s heart was beating just a bit faster now, hoping Ivan wasn’t going to act all defensive again.

He didn’t. Ivan actually seemed rather pleased with hearing that. Not that Alfred could be entirely sure about it, as he wasn’t able to read minds. But Ivan still didn’t look angry or annoyed, still had that look of surprise gracing his features. And finally, he spoke.

“…Chemistry is my passion. Not my only one, but one of my greatest. I was only four when my grandfather showed me how to make water into something solid, how to freeze air, six when he gave me a period table to study by heart and let me watch a documentary on the process of forming diamonds, eight when I conducted my first successful experiment. I was caught from the beginning.”

His eyes had gone soft while recalling those memories, and Alfred was absolutely mesmerised by them. Then, after finishing his little story, he seemed a little embarrassed, as if it hadn’t been his intention to share that much. Alfred smiled encouragingly at him, heart making a little flop, knowing they were finally bonding. “He sounds like an amazing man.”

Ivan nodded after a moment’s pause. “ _Da_ …he was.”

Alfred’s breath caught when Ivan placed the test tubes on the side of the desk, ready for usage. “Oh man, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“Is fine,” Ivan interrupted, and then the next moment Alfred fully forgot how to breathe, because Ivan showed him a genuine smile, lips curling up almost shyly, eyes shimmering. “…Thank you,  Alfred.”

And Alfred felt like fainting when professor Munch showed up and interrupted their little get-together.

* * *

Alfred was absolutely euphoric when he got home that night. Ivan had talked to him! Ivan had called him by his name! Ivan had _smiled_ at him in the cutest of ways!

The recollection of that last event made his gut squeeze together in a rather familiar way. He locked himself in the bathroom to get rid of the little problem.

Ivan wasn’t his yet. But after today’s progress, he finally felt like he had a chance.


	5. You're my XTC

Alfred was whistling a song to himself when Ivan came bursting into the room with much more vigour than usual. With determined steps he strode forward, until he was standing right in front of the sunny blond. Alfred tried not to show how much this closeness was getting to him, and smiled a bit awkwardly. “Can I help you?”

“Whyareyouhelpingmelikeanimbecilewhenyouareamazingatchemistry?” Ivan asked without taking any time to breathe.

Alfred blinked. Ivan’s face was much, much too close, and he was a little out of breath. Alfred felt his eyes dropping to those slightly parted lips, and had to shake his head to snap out of it. Now was not the time to be kissing Ivan—unless he initiated it himself, of course. Then he definitely wouldn’t say no.

“Come again?”

“Why,” Ivan repeated, grabbing Alfred’s wrists without warning. Alfred yelped, but the sound got stuck down his throat when Ivan got even closer, face reading suspicious excitement. “Why are you helping me for extra credit when you only got the highest grades for chemistry in high school?”

“How’d you know that?” Alfred asked, blush staining his neck.

Ivan released him and began pacing back and forth in front of him, hand tapping at his cheek. “Well, after hearing you know so much about me I could not allow myself to be left in the dark about you. I had a talk with the professor, who informed me about your background. Apparently you got into this university with a scholarship because you excel at scientific courses, and yet you do not necessarily stand out in class. Why is that? Are you simply that lazy that you do not want to keep working for your scholarship, or did you somehow cheat your way into the system?”

“I didn’t cheat!” Alfred growled indignantly.

“Then you must be lazy—“

“No!” Alfred sucked in breath when Ivan once more came to stand in front of him, eyes shining victoriously.

“Then why? Tell me your secrets, Alfred. Otherwise we are done.”

Alfred’s mind raced. He couldn’t tell Ivan the true reasons, not yet. But then…

“Well…” Alfred took a step forward himself, bringing their bodies all but flush against each other. Ivan’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t flinch back. Either he was incredibly brave, or had completely different notions of personal space. “Maybe chemistry is my passion as well. Maybe I love sciences so much, just going to class and sitting on my ass all day wasn’t enough for me. Maybe…” He grinned. “Maybe I wanted to work with someone who so obviously shares my interests.”

Ivan was taken by surprise by his answer, but didn’t let him faze it for too long. Alfred felt himself shiver when Ivan came EVEN CLOSER, a content smirk accentuating his hooded eyes.

“Well then, Alfred. Perhaps you are more interesting than I initially thought.”

He _had_ to be flirting. He had to. Nobody could say stuff like that in such a low voice and NOT be flirting. Which meant Alfred could kiss him now, right? And—and maybe, maybe after that…

Before he could indulge in those fantasies, Ivan pulled away. His earlier excitement had only grown, and he was actually humming while taking out his schedule for the day. “Well then! If that is truly how you feel, I expect great work of you in the future! For today’s experiment, professor Munch wants us to—“

Alfred was still stuck in that same position, head tilted back and eyes half-shut, arms slightly raised as he had been about to wrap them around Ivan’s neck. He had difficulty processing the lack of Ivan, or the lack of smooching going on. His body wanted its drug, even though he’d never had a shot before.

The blond quickly shot to action when Ivan looked his way, not really feeling the urge to explain his strange behaviour. Okay, so maybe Ivan didn’t want to kiss him yet. But he definitely had been flirting, right? Which meant it was okay to ask him on a date.

“So uh,” Alfred said, putting on his safety goggles. “Would you uh…like to talk about chemistry sometime? You know, outside of class? So that we actually have some time (alone)?”

Ivan shrugged, then slowed down in his movements. For a moment Alfred thought he was going to be called out on for trying to ask Ivan out, but that didn’t seem to be the problem.

“I suppose we could…I will have to look at my schedule though. There were two students who asked for a revision of their grades and I have a few papers to look over…” His expression brightened. “If you do not mind talking to me while I work, you could join me for lunch tomorrow.”

Alfred’s grin couldn’t have been brighter. Ivan accepted! He was going on a date with Ivan! Well, if they were going to have lunch in the cafeteria it wouldn’t be that intimate, and if Ivan was bringing work with him they might not be kissing by the end of it, but it was progress nonetheless.

“Ivan, I’d be very happy to have lunch with you,” Alfred said brightly, sticking out his arm. And this time, Ivan did shake his hand, delightful chuckle setting Alfred’s hair on edge.


	6. The Basics

Alfred was just watching some cartoons in his underwear, bowl of popcorn neatly situated between his thighs. His blue eyes were half-lidded as they skimmed over the various channels in boredom. He didn’t want to be watching cartoons now (never thought he’d say that), he wanted it to be tomorrow so he could go on his lunch date with the Russian hottie of his dreams! With a miserable little groan he slouched further back into the soft pillows of his couch. It was a very old thing, something that used to stand in his grandparents’ attic. He remembered going there with his twin brother, the both of them covered in dust and rags by the time they were called back down for some cookies and milk. His grandmother always made fresh cookies whenever the boys came over; chocolate chip, ginger and butterscotch, cinnamon with hot gooey insides…

Alfred squirmed around uncomfortably. For some reason, the thought of food made his mouth water a little too much. As if the food was more than ecstatically yummy, it was also just plain ecstasy-inducing. Alfred frowned. Now this was strange. He was getting horny over cookies. _Cookies!_ However, before he could dwell any further on the strange reactions his body was showing, somebody rang at the door.

Not even bothering to pull on some pants (it was most likely Kiku or one of the other guys anyway), he clambered over the back of the couch, cursed for a small moment when he landed face-first on the floor, then scrambled back up and swiftly walked to the door. With a huff he swung it open, about to tell the other he wasn’t in the mood for company, that in fact he was thinking about taking a long hot shower and maybe…giving himself a little alone time. Once his eyes landed on the visitor’s appearance however, all complaints dried up on his limp tongue.

Right before him stood Ivan Braginsky, in the flesh. He was leaning casually against the wall, one hand propped up above him as support, the other placed firmly on his hip. He was wearing one of those open shirts that showed off your chest, and man, what a chest he had! In fact, it was exactly as Alfred had always imagined it, pale and sturdy and broad yet perfect pillow material. It was suspiciously much like he had imagined it. Not that he was complaining—on the contrary. When the guy you have a crush on suddenly appears on your doorstep while showing off more flesh than he ever has and with the most smouldering bedroom eyes you can imagine, complaining is the last thing on your to-do list.

“I forgot something earlier today. Something I thought you would like,” Ivan purred in a low voice.

Alfred couldn’t swallow. He was also left unable to tear his eyes away from so much bare skin. The roughened tones in which Ivan spoke sent trembles all the way down to his toes, which curled in sudden anticipation.

“Wha-what is it?” he asked breathlessly, all but choking on his own spit when Ivan stepped forward and closed the door behind him. Alfred felt compelled to step back, the taller man stalking after him as if he was about to devour the blond. Alfred wasn’t scared. Quite on the contrary. He even felt…a little too excited by this sexy display of dominance. He let out a small choked noise when Ivan successfully trapped him in, pushing against him until he toppled over the back of the couch. Legs propped open and Ivan still looming above, his growing erection was quite clear for all too see. Yet he didn’t feel embarrassed, strangely enough. Not even when he all but shrieked as Ivan placed a hand on his crotch.

“I forgot this,” he laughed in husky tones. One second later, Alfred’s boxers were successfully dragged down to his ankles. Another one, and his legs were hooked over Ivan’s shoulders. Yet another, and Alfred was left to moan pathetically into the pillows, which he gathered into his arms to smother the shamefully wanton sounds.

He’d been given a blowjob by a dude before. But never one he had lusted after for so long, one that set his nerves on fire with just one single gaze or smile or, God forbid, one of those delightful hoarse giggles. Alfred was left to helplessly buck up, bones melting into jello and body soon overheating. This was all he’d ever dreamt of and more. This was better than all chemistry classes together, heck, maybe even better than winning a life-long supply of ice cream and (maybe) hamburgers.

“Ivaaaaaaaaaan,” he drawled happily, wanting this pleasure to last forever.

Ivan chuckled over his arousal, then spoke thickly. “Look up, Alfred.”

Alfred did as told, and was then given the scare of a lifetime. Instead of his room, they were suddenly back in class. Dozens of faces were staring down at him, unashamed. As if he was just another interesting chemical reaction to study. Some of them were even making notes in their little booklets.

At first, Alfred felt undignified, ashamed, confused even. Why hadn’t Ivan told him there were so many people watching his slutty behaviour? Though, as soon as that first wave of embarrassment had washed over, something much stronger made its way through his veins. A high possessiveness, only further heightening his excitement.

Placing his hands on the back of Ivan’s head, urging him to continue where he’d left off, he bent his head back and growled at the students. “That’s right, he’s mine!” he huffed victoriously, the heat only intensifying with that thought. It was right. Ivan _was_ his, now and forever. And they were going to do this many, many more times after today.

“Alfred!”

The blond awoke with a start. Disoriented, it took him a while to figure out where he was. Not in their classroom, nor on the couch. He was currently lying in his bed, thin layer of sweat covering his body, arms clinging fiercely to the blankets. The only thing that had been real about the dream, was how hot and bothered he felt.

Dammit.

Looking up, he found none other than his own flesh and blood staring down at him. He looked rather…unimpressed. Alfred huffed, feeling his cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Geez Mattie, can’t you give me a call before you come to visit?” While speaking, he situated the blankets between his legs so his obvious boner would be slightly less obvious.

“I _did_ give you a call. Four times even. And you told me everything was okay, you’d have it all set up by the time I arrived, and you’d show me around your campus.”

“Did I now?” Alfred questioned, searching through his memories. All right, maybe he had promised something of the likes. Didn’t mean he was going to remember!

Matthew rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I just arrived so I’m going to unpack for a bit if you don’t mind. You finish…” He looked down with quirked eyebrows. “Whatever it was you were doing.”

Matthew barely dodged the pillow Alfred threw straight at his face, then escaped the bedroom before his brother could successfully strangle him.


	7. How to date a molecule

Alfred thought it would have been very awkward to go on a date with the guy he’d had a wet dream about the previous night. That he would die of mortification, the evidence of his escapades written on his more than guilty forehead. Well, awkward it was. Only, for all the wrong reasons. The first being his brother of course, who had not only shown up right when things started getting a little interesting, but who had also thoroughly yanked the ears off his head with questions when he attempted to leave for his lunch date in neat clothes. Secondly, there was the fact that Ivan was _completely ignoring him_.

Technically, Alfred should be used to it by now. Used to the Russian saving his attention for his work instead of for Alfred. Still, he had hoped Ivan would show a little more interest now that they had sort of bonded. At this rate, Ivan wouldn’t be his before the blond had finished his studies, and Alfred was anything but a patient man.

“What are you looking at?” Ivan asked suddenly, without tearing his gaze from the papers. It was like he had invisible eyes on top of his head!

“Nothing, not you!” Alfred quickly peeped, cold sweat breaking out. Ivan looked up for just a moment, eyes filled with mirth, before immediately looking back down to continue his work. Alfred sighed in relief, and then felt a pang of annoyance. He wanted Ivan to pay attention to _him_ , not his stupid work!

“So…you come here often?” the blond attempted to start a conversation, letting his gaze trail over the busily chattering heads of his fellow students and a few stray professors. With a shock he realised Ivan had opted for a table at the side of the large room—maybe to give them some privacy? On the other hand, if Ivan had chosen a table in the centre, Alfred would have reasoned it away as Ivan showing off his date, so it was a win-win situation for Alfred regardless of the Russian’s true intentions.

“Only when I forget to bring lunch,” Ivan mumbled over the papers he was correcting. A small tsk escaped those fine lips, and Alfred felt a goofy smile grow when the other frowned and bent over to indicate a mistake with his red pen, the boy loving that little frown and a flash of pink tongue slipping over the man’s lower lip. He had it so, so incredibly bad.

“I could bring you lunch if you forget your own,” Alfred mumbled breathlessly, eyes clinging to the other’s form.

“What?” Ivan asked, blinking as he looked up, obviously not really focused on his companion.

Alfred’s mouth opened, wanting to laugh it off as a joke, then closed. He swallowed. “I-I mean, if you forget to bring lunch again, I could go get you some, so you won’t have to lose time. That way you’re done earlier in the evening!” (And we can go on more dates.)

Ivan stared at him incredulously, as if Alfred was the biggest moron he’d ever seen. “How would you know when I forget to bring it? We do not have chemistry every day. You would have to go out of your way and check on me every day around lunchtime if you wanted to fulfil that promise.”

Before Alfred could respond with a “no problem, my pleasure!”, Ivan leant in, eyes big and dark and _oh God why was he leaning in was this it?_

“Would it not hurt your own studies if you were to involve yourself with such a tedious task?” He jabbed the pen at Alfred’s chest, and Alfred was certain the other could hear his heart thundering out of his body.

“I have enough time to study!” he squeaked. Coughing into his hand, he leant forward as well, enthusiastically continuing his rambles. “Think about it, there’s only pros to this idea! No more running to the cafeteria, meaning more time for your work, Igettoseeyoueveryday, you can finish up at more human times, and really I’d be—“

“What was that?”

Alfred blinked. “What was what?”

“That part in the middle.”

Sweat.

“What part.”

“About you seeing me every day.”

Waterfall running down his neck.

“Uh…”

“What is that about? Are you certain this is not an elaborate plan to further occupy my time and make sure I lose my job?”

Alfred was ready to start apologising, pleading for his life, he _knew_ he’d screwed it up—until he saw the mirth in Ivan’s eyes. He was joking. Ivan Braginsky was actually joking! Huh. What do you know.

Alfred grinned widely as he bent over the table, hands placed on top. “Oh yeah, definitely!” But just as he steeled himself for another funny response, or, who knows, maybe a hint of flirtation? Ivan sat back up again, diving head-first into his paperwork once more.

“That would be very bad. Now please, finish your meal. I have to go back lest I waste even more time.”

And just like that, he began packing his things, placing his unfinished sandwich between strong teeth as he rose. Alfred stared at him open-mouthed, feeling himself shrink a little as he was so coldly left behind. Had he said something wrong? Had that joke not been a joke after all? What had happened to suddenly ruin the perfect mood? He thought he was finally getting the hang of it, dammit!

He felt himself shrivel even further as Ivan hurried off, not looking back once, his half-empty cup of tea abandoned before the blond’s shimmering eyes and quivering lip.


	8. I think of you periodically

“Mattieeeeeeeeee, why won’t he like meeeeeeeeee???” Alfred sobbed dramatically into his pillow. The room was filled with the sounds of gross and snot-filled blubbering, combined with an almost monotone sighing as Matthew handed him tissue after tissue. Kiku was sitting next to the poor heartbroken soul, trying (and failing) to finish a task he had to hand in the following day.

“Maybe he’s just not that into you Al, ever thought about that?” Matthew sighed, causing Alfred’s crying to grow even louder.

“But he has to be—we’ve been getting closer a-and he almost never talks to other people so the fact that he talks to me _has_ to mean something, and he a-accepted my lunch proposal and we went on a date and it’s not faaaaaaaaaaaaair!” Alfred rubbed his wet and dripping face into the pillow, which Matthew quickly snatched from his grasp. “I just don’t understand, you guys! What do I have to do to get him to like me?”

“Normally I would say be yourself, but yourself is very loud and annoying, so perhaps a different method is needed,” Kiku mumbled to himself, crossing out an incorrect equation and starting over for what had to be the eighth time.

“Thanks a lot, bud,” Alfred said dryly, glaring at his soon-to-be ex-best friend.

“Any time,” Kiku said with a small smile, ducking when a phone was sent flying over his head (luckily landing safely into a pillow-covered chair, otherwise Matthew would have had to start using his Responsible Voice).

“I’m gonna be forever alone and horny,” Alfred snivelled miserably.

“…Sorry?”

“People will mourn my death,” he continued as if nothing had happened. A single spotlight seemed to be focused on his wailing figure. “My name will be remembered in the Book of Singles!”

“I am certain that doesn’t exist—“

“They’ll write songs about me!”

“Alfred, I don’t think that many people care that you—“

“SOMEBODY PLEASE PUT ON _ALL BY MYSELF_ I’M IN A DESPERATE MOOD HERE!”

“ALFRED!”

* * *

The next morning Alfred was shuffling to class entirely against his will. Everything was grey. The birds were grey. The cars were grey. Kiku and Matthew walking next to him and constantly trying to cheer him up by blatantly ignoring him as they exchanged idle chitchat were by definition, also grey. Life sucked.

He was not in the mood to be showing his brother around campus. All he wanted was Ivan. Which technically, he got, since there were still their weekly appointments to set up the experiments for their chemistry teacher. A little silver lining in the grey, grey sky. Sigh.

“Alfred please, cheer up! You know the saying. There’s plenty of fish in the sea,” Matthew reminded him with a playful bump to the shoulder.

Alfred sent him a look so sad it would have made babies cry. “I don’t _want_ fish. I don’t even like seafood!”

“You know what I’m saying,” Matthew snapped, thoroughly fed up with the other’s constant whining and complaining. Matthew had come here to spend a week with his favourite (ahem, only) brother, not to have to sit through his raging hormones!

Alfred sighed dramatically as they entered the school building. “But I don’t want someone else! I want Ivan! Mattie, I swear, you gotta see him—he’s a total hottie!”

“You know, it’s not because we’re twins that we have the same taste in—“

“He’s absolutely _massive_! And gorgeous! And I just know that he’s packing down there, if ya know what I’m saying.” He gave the two a nudge-nudge-elbow-elbow-wink-wonk-say-no-more, which for whatever reason only drew looks of disgust.

“TMI, Alfred. TMI,” Kiku said with a shudder.

“Yeah, now I know what you were dreaming about last night,” Matthew agreed as he cringed back.

“Oh you guys, just grow up!” The sunny blond opened the door to the chemistry lab, looking over his shoulder to laugh at the others. “We’re all practically adults, we should be able to talk about—he’s not here.”

“I…wha?” Matthew asked, confused about this sudden change of topic. And why did Alfred have that look on his face, as if Armageddon was playing out right before his eyes?

“He’s not here! Ivan! He’s supposed to be here, but he’s not, and HOLY SHIT I PISSED HIM OFF SO BADLY HE WANTS TO STOP DOING CHEMISTRY.”

“Alfred, I am sure that’s not what he—“

But Alfred was already gone, running off to professor Munch’s office.

Kiku and Matthew sighed simultaneously, before looking each other in the eye.

“Wanna go get some coffee?”

“ _Hai_.”

Further down the building, Alfred was flying through hallways and skipping past corridors, jacket flying behind him in the small tornado he was creating by running faster than the speed of light yo! As soon as he had smacked against the door of Munchkin’s office he threw it open, fully wide-eyed panicky and out of breath.

“Whyisn’tIvanintheclassroomyet?”

Professor Munch was sitting behind his desk, looking quite astonished, as if he’d just seen a ghost. “…Alfred Jones, can you tell me why you’re storming into my office at 8 in the morning? That door is real mahogany, you know!”

“Why isn’t Ivan in the classroom yet?” Alfred repeated, a bit slower this time, annoyed that Munch wasn’t getting to the point. Couldn’t he see there were lives at stake here? LIVES!

“Oh,” the professor said, blinking owlishly, before straightening up and re-arranging the papers he’d been grading. “You mean Brahimly.” “Braginsky, sir.” “He called in sick today. First time that happened. Wanted to come in anyway, but I forbade him. My brother is a doctor, you know. He’d kill me if I got the students sick.”

“So he’s at home?” Alfred asked, both immensely relieved, utterly worried about his beloved’s health, and wondering if that hadn’t just been an excuse because Ivan really didn’t want to see him today.

“Yes. Which is a shame, really. He’s such a good help. And there are these papers that need to get a grade before tomorrow…” He looked at the stack of paperwork before him, eyeing it as if it were about to bite off his hand. The administrative side of his job had never been his favourite one.

“Before tomorrow?” Alfred echoed, that brilliant brain of his rapidly coming up with an ingenious plan. “I can bring them to him.”

It was brilliant! Not only did Ivan get to do the work he so loved, and did Munch get to sit around on his lazy ass all afternoon (because that was what professors did in their spare time, right?), but Alfred would finally get to see Ivan’s apartment! The place where he lived! And his bedroom, of course.

Professor Munch eyed him warily, even though a hint of relief was already visible in his features. “You would do that? You aren’t saying this just so you can change your grades, right?”

Alfred gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “I would never! Besides, I’m acing this class.”

“I will be the judge of that,” Munch mumbled dryly, the papers already being shoved into a map. “Well then, if you can find time after class, it would be much obliged.”

“You can count on me, mister M! So, what’s Ivan’s address?”


	9. Give me a chemi-call

Alfred looked up at the imposing apartment building before him, then back down to check the address quickly scribbled onto a paper scrap for what had to be the twentieth time, and back up. This was it. This was where Ivan lived. Ivan Braginsky, the love of his life, his soulmate, the guy he absolutely _had_ to bang before the year was out. Or, Ivan had to bang him, at least. Which was a fact he hadn’t even openly discussed with Kiku yet. Guy gotta keep at least some things secret, amiright? And the fact that he was a size queen wasn’t something to brag about. What _could_ be bragged about was Ivan’s dick, once Alfred finally got to see it, since he was absolutely certain it had to be size XXXXXL.

But back to the point. He was at Ivan’s place.

Quickly crumpling the paper and shoving it into a pocket of his low-hanging levis (maybe if he could show off some hip action Ivan would swoon), he adjusted his glasses and leant in, peering at the row of names hanging next to each bell. There was a Héderváry, a Laurinaitis, a Wang, Jansen Carriedo Bonnefoy Kirkland—and there. Braginsky. Written in neat letters, Ivan’s handwriting.

Alfred swallowed. Pushed the bell. Waited. Definitely didn’t push three more times for good measure. Almost jumped out of his skin when sound became audible, something staticy before the low tones of that deliciously hoarse voice made him sigh in relief and almost moan with want—there he was. Ivan. _Ivan_. God, he had it bad.

“ _Kto tam_?” his voice came, audibly tired, making Alfred want to rush up there and take care of him.

“It’s Alfred,” the blond spoke into the intercom, pushing himself flat against the wall as if he could teleport up to Ivan’s living room by using his voice alone. “I have some stuff for you from Munchk- professor Munch.”

“Alfred?” the other asked, and now it was Alfred’s turn to swoon as his soon-to-be-boyfriend spoke _his_ name. It was heavenly, hearing the six letters fall in accented tones from those pale thin lips, lips that were often drawn back in contemplation but sometimes quirked up in the most delicious of smirks. Oh God—why weren’t they in bed yet?

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said happily, wagging an invisible tail like an overly excited puppy. “There’s some papers he wanted you to correct, nothing more.”

“How do you know my—“ There was a moment’s pause as Alfred’s heart beat so loud it made people turn heads across the street, wondering if they should call an ambulance for the poor boy who seemed to be about ready to fly off into space. Then the buzzer went, and Alfred was allowed inside. Just like that. He was invited into Ivan’s home. He. Him. Alfred F. Jones.

 _Finally_.

Being far too impatient and needing to release some energy, Alfred decided to forgo the elevator and ran up the stairs instead. After five sets of them, he was panting slightly, but his excitement hadn’t diminished any bit. A door at the end of the hallway began to open, and he bounded towards it, unable to keep a huge doe-eyed smile from his youthful features. Skidding to a halt, he came to a stop right before the slight crack of an opened door, a rather tired Ivan peeking out. His cheeks were rosy from the fever and his expression was both imploring and faraway, making for an appearance that was both sickly and scandalously cute. Like, really. It should be forbidden to look this cute when you were sick. Alfred didn’t want to feel blood running down to his groin when he was supposed to be worried about the other’s health.

“Oh gosh I’m so sorry you got sick do you need medicine is there anything I can do for you do you—“

“Alfred,” Ivan said softly, cranking the door open just a bit further so he could more comfortably lean against the doorpost. Alfred instantly cut himself short, bobbing his head in an obedient nod. “You said something about papers?” Ivan changed his stance, and only then did Alfred’s eyes shoot down- and _oh dear lord he was wearing pyjamas beneath his bathrobe_. The cutest set of PJs at that. Fluffy and oversized, and with a weird brown big-eared creature on them.

Ivan noticed him staring, and self-consciously pulled the bathrobe tighter to his body. He gave Alfred an odd owlish look, as if to ask “what is so interesting about my clothes?” before Alfred remembered that a question had been asked.

“Oh right—the papers.” He put up a finger, a signal for Ivan to wait as he slung his backpack onto the floor and squatted, rummaging through the all-but-tidy contents of his bag. Then he pulled out the map with a small victorious titter, and rose to full height again, which was still noticeably shorter than his crush of crushes.

Ivan held out his hand for Alfred to hand over the papers, but he wasn’t going to get away that easy. Now that Alfred had finally made it to Ivan’s apartment, he was going inside, or his name wasn’t Alfred Freedom Jones! (It wasn’t, but who cares.)

“I can put them away for you!” he quickly interjected, curiously trying to catch a glimpse of Ivan’s home. “And do you have anyone to take care of you? Did you visit a doctor yet?”

“I can look after myself,” Ivan huffed. “I am an adult. I do not need anyone to take care of me.”

“But you _did_ call a doctor, right?” Alfred repeated, now looking Ivan in the eye, leaning in a bit too close to be socially permitted. Ivan didn’t seem to care, or perhaps he had different standards when it came to personal bubbles.

“Why do you care, Alfred?” Ivan asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Because we’re friends,” Alfred promptly finished for him, waiting with anxious nerves for agreeance or approval, any sign that he wasn’t completely fooling himself, that he did have a chance, even if it was only a tiny one.

Ivan paused, eyes widening as he looked at Alfred, studying the boy as if he’d never truly looked at him before. “Friends?” he said hesitantly, as if tasting the word on his tongue. Another small pause, making Alfred almost pee his pants, as nervous as he was. And then—

“… _Da._ I suppose we are…friends.” He smiled at that, cheeks tainting slightly more pink, and Alfred fell in love all over again.

“Yeah, of course we are!” he said enthusiastically, standing on his tippy-toes to bring their faces even closer. “And friends care about each other. You… If I got sick, would you worry?”

The ultimate test. He was truly crossing dangerous waters here. But he _had_ to know.

Ivan seemed to mull it over for a bit, hand being brought to his neck as it unconsciously stroked along his silky scarf. “If you were sick… If for one reason, you suddenly would not show up… _Da_. I suppose I would worry.” He gave a small giggle, and Alfred instantly wished he could hear more of it. “I suppose I have grown used to having you around, Alfred.” And when he smiled at his visitor, those amethyst eyes bright and cleared from all work-related stress, it was as if clouds were sliding away to reveal a radiant sun, as if angels had come down to sing arias and ballades, as if everything was right in the world.

“Can I come in for a sex-sec?” he croaked, almost forgetting how to breathe.

And when Ivan, after long consideration, gave him the go-ahead, he was about ready to die and go to heaven.


	10. Schrödinger's Cat

Alfred slowly entered Ivan’s apartment, like a religious man going to see his deity face-to-face for the first time ever. It was small and clean and, for lack of a better word, cosy. Warm colours decorated the walls, sunflowers could be found everywhere (literally everywhere—on paintings and in vases and photographs and EVERYWHERE). Ivan shuffled ahead of him, sniffling as he pulled the bathrobe closer to his body in an attempt to keep warm.

“Stupid cold…” he mumbled, more to himself than to his visitor. “Keeping me from work… You can put the papers there.” He pointed, Alfred’s gaze snapping back and forth between his finger and the small desk pushed in between a bookcase and comfy chair. He padded over and placed the map down, still looking around.

Ivan nodded, suddenly not really knowing what to do. He didn’t have guests over that often, much less…friends. Life got quite busy when you had to attend to experiments and paperwork day in, day out, not taking a single day off in between. He had an almost perfect record, and now it was being broken by this silly disease.

“If you do not mind, I am going back to bed,” he said in a much more morose tone than his earlier happy jabbering, turning around and shuffling off. He wanted some time alone to wallow in his misery. Alfred could see himself out.

Only, Alfred didn’t leave. Instead, he followed right behind, almost sticking to his back as he opened the door to his bedroom. Ivan cast a glance over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed, but didn’t say anything about it. Apparently his guest wanted a tour of the house before he was leaving. Well, he was going to have to stick to only seeing the living room and his bed, because he wasn’t leaving it once he got in.

Alfred on the other hand, couldn’t care less about seeing the rest of the house. No, just the bed would do. It would more than just “do”. As Ivan let the bathrobe slide off his broad shoulders and onto the floor, it was like he was naked—or, as close to nudity as Alfred had ever seen him. One shoulder was exposed with the pyjamas constantly slipping over it, his feet were bare as he could see them disappearing under the covers, and when Ivan turned to settle down, Alfred could clearly see that one, most important part, where legs and torso met, where his plush hips parted and bulge could be attacked and pulled free into the open, and Alfred would all but drool as he slipped Ivan’s dick into his mouth, and watch him shudder, hear him moan, oh, it was too good to be true—

“Alfred?”

Snapping back to reality, Alfred quickly sat down at the edge of the mattress and pulled a pillow over his groin, looking both guilty and entirely innocent as he stared at the now bedridden Ivan. “Yeah? You thought of anything I can do for ya?”

Ivan shook his head in the negative, before softly coughing into his hand once again. This gave Alfred enough time to will his inconvenient excitement away, after which he grew casual once more.

“So uh, you live here alone?” he asked, deciding now was as good a time as any to poke around. Hey, Ivan had admitted to them being friends, he might as well start planning the honeymoon!

Ivan nodded, pulling the blankets up to his chin as the scarf was pulled off and spread out neatly over a chair standing right next to his bed. “It is small, but enough for one person.”

“Yeah, gotcha. I share my room with a friend and we cut the rent, but it’s actually only a little bigger than this place.”

“Is he the Japanese boy?”

“Yeah!” Alfred said, grinning. Ivan had noticed Kiku being with him, ergo he had noticed him outside of their preparation sessions! Sweetness. “We’ve been best friends since like, kindergarten. It’s awesome to share a room with someone you like. Or love, if you can do that.”

“You do not love your friend?” Ivan asked, to which Alfred gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“I mean, yeah I do, but just not, in that way, ya know?”

“In what way?”

“I mean, like…romantically.”

Alfred stared Ivan in the eye, giving what he hoped was a meaningful look. Were they finally going to make progress? He could feel his heart speed up once again. If Ivan kept doing this to him he was going to have a heart attack. Hah! Those doctors would laugh. “Sir, what seems to be the problem?” “My future boyfriend keeps giving me palpitations by being too hot.” “Uh…”

“Oh,” Ivan said simply, and suddenly Alfred could feel the air turn frigid. Had he said something wrong? Why was Ivan looking down, only nose and fingers peeking over the blankets? Still, he had to know, had to pursue his dreams!

“So… You don’t have anyone like that?”

“Like…?”

“You _know_ ,” Alfred pressed on, leaning in once again. “A lover. A special someone. A girlfriend…or boyfriend?”

This was it. The moment of truth.

Ivan’s frown deepened as his face turned several shades of pink, then stuck with a dark crimson, covering his cheeks, ears, and whatever bits of neck could be seen.

“Ah… _nyet_. No lover.”

“Oh…” IVAN WAS FREE! HE WASN’T DATING ANYONE! HIS CRUSH WAS SINGLE! “That’s too bad.” TOO BAD FOR THOSE OTHERS PEEPS, YEEHAW!

Ivan made a noncommittal noise, leaving Alfred aching for more, more information, more new sights and noises that were so fresh yet so distinctly Ivan.

“And uh…no one you’ve got your eye on either? If it’s about asking them out, I could put in a good word for ya.”

“ _Nyet_ ,” Ivan said, faster this time, more insistent. Was that a “no I don’t have my eye on anyone”, or a “I got my eye on someone but I don’t want your help”, or perhaps even a “it’s YOU, you idiot!”? Damn, he should only ask one question at the time!

“I really wouldn’t mind!” Alfred kept on going. “Really, or if you want to date someone, I could help set you up.” Help cut off the genitals of whoever it was that wanted to steal Ivan away from him. “Really, I—“

“Alfred,” Ivan now hissed, looking so hot and blushy it couldn’t be healthy. “I do not have a lover, I do not want to see someone, I do not have time to see someone, I never had time to see anyone! And even if I did, is not like anyone wants to see me!”

Wait.

 _Waaaaaaaaaait_.

Hang on a sec.

Was Ivan saying…did those words mean that…

Alfred had brought up his hands to cover his mouth, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets as he stared incredulously at the small bundle of fiercely blushing Ivan, which almost re-introduced the problem that needed covering up by pillow.

“Ivan…you mean that you—you never…you’ve never dated _anyone_ before?”

Ivan’s frown turned into a scowl that tried to disguise itself as indifference, but there ain’t no fooling Alfred. He could see past it, and straight into Ivan’s soul. It was the truth.

“I wanted to,” Ivan finally said, stubbornly, keeping his eyes locked with patterns on the warm blankets. “Once. But they laughed in my face. Humiliated me. And after that no more. I got too busy with my studies and my work, and no one ever came to ask. So I decided not to try myself. And soon I did not know anyone I would even consider dating anymore, and then I got too old to try for a first date, and I do not care! Romance is overrated. I have my work, and my diploma that had all As, and I do not need people to ask me on dates!”

He said it all as if he desperately wanted to make himself believe it, as if, by repeating it loud enough, it would be true. Which only confirmed the fact that it wasn’t, that Ivan wasn’t necessarily disinterested, he simply didn’t have any suitors.

Until now.

And then—

“So you’ve never dated before?”

“ _Nyet_.”

“And…you also never kissed before?”

“ _Nyet_. I do not do the kiss and run, or whatever the expression is.”

Definitely not that, but…

Alfred leant in even closer, body trembling as the question escaped his mouth.

“And…you also never had sex before?”

“Alfred!” Ivan finally looked up, both utterly embarrassed and shaken, so different from the stoic and work-focused side he always showed on campus. It was so different, so much more than he could have hoped for, so _incredibly adorable and sexy_.

“You’re a virgin,” Alfred said promptly, leaning back up, ignoring the angry scowl sent his way. “You’re a virgin,” he repeated, letting that information sink in. Ivan had never… And nobody had ever tried to… _He_ might become the first to court—

OH DEAR LORD.

“Bathroom,” he said in a rushed voice, shooting up and away before he could explain himself, not even giving Ivan the time to ask.

He sprinted in, slammed the door shut, pulled his belt loose and put it between his teeth, and began jacking off as if his life depended on it. It was both the quickest and cleanest orgasm he’d ever experienced, making sure not to get anything on Ivan’s furniture lest he betray himself. But that new revelation had been too much, had put too many images and ideas into his head, and he simply couldn’t have gone on talking to Ivan like a normal person had he not taken care of it first.

Satisfied and all cleaned up, he returned to the bedroom, finding Ivan a little more composed now, most of the blush having left. His arms were crossed before his chest, and only now did Alfred notice the bandages around his neck (but he didn’t ask, because there were far more important things to discuss).

“Are you going to laugh at me now too?” Ivan asked sullenly, looking away with what could only be described as a pout.

“What? Of course not!” Alfred exclaimed, rushing over to his side. His eyes were sparkling. “I just…find it interesting to know.”

“How could that be interesting?” Ivan mumbled, refusing to look at him, yet definitely more pouty now.

“So…no one’s ever wanted to…you know…with you before?”

“ _Nyet_ , and now let it go! Is not important. Is not like I _want_ to date and, and kiss someone, and…” His blush deepened again, as did the frown.

“Ivan,” Alfred said in the most grave tone he could muster. “So you’ve never had anyone flirt with you before? You don’t know when people are—“

“ _Nyet_!” the Russian spat, finally looking at him once more. “For the last time, Alfred, I have not had anyone do those things for me! I am a virgin, and have no experience when it comes to romance and dating and—“

He froze completely when Alfred surged forward, eyes scrunched shut as he placed a kiss to his lips. Amethyst eyes widened in shock, heartbeat was cut off, the world stopped spinning. There was only confusion and surprise and complete immobility, the platinum blond not at all knowing how to handle this situation. He wasn’t exactly being harassed or assaulted—at least, he didn’t think so, because Alfred was certainly not doing things he didn’t like—wait… Did that mean he _wanted_ to kiss Alfred?

Before any questions could even begin to be answered, Alfred pulled back, a nice wine red himself.

“Ivan Braginsky, I like you a lot, and I swear, on my granny’s grave, I am going to flirt with you and court the shit out of you, and you’re gonna feel like the motherfucking queen! Mark my words, you will be loved!”

And with that he retracted his hands, stood up, and stomped out of the room, all fierce determination.

Ivan remained frozen, owlishly blinking as he stared at nothing, seeing nothing, feeling too much, not even flinching when the door fell shut behind his visitor.


	11. First base isn't always a good base

“…Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow at Kiku as his brother continued rolling over the floor, pillow pressed to his chest as he needed it to muffle high-pitched screams every once in a while, limbs wildly flailing and body spasming, non-distinguishable nonsense flowing from his ever-moving lips. Either Alfred was possessed by the devil, or he had found Matthew’s “medicinal herbs” and was showing some kind of strange reaction to the stuff.

“Thanks for abandoning me, by the way. Real nice,” Matthew remarked dryly, even though he was already used to his twin’s spontaneous disappearances. Alfred was a master at taking you by surprise, even when you happened to come from the same womb.

“I did it Mattie, I finally did it!” Alfred wheezed after a while, pillow removed to reveal a flushed face and heaving chest. “I’m so happy I could die!”

“Please do not die before the finals, you will throw your future away,” Kiku reminded him, but Alfred had already gone back to giggling like a maniac, kicking his feet excitedly in the air.

“How did you two become friends again?” Matthew asked with a sigh, letting himself fall back onto the mattress.

“He noticed I was playing Pokémon and instantly declared us friends for life,” Kiku replied, following the other’s example. “People often ask me how I can stand being with him, but I suppose he does bring a lot of excitement to my life.”

“Yeah, I guess there’s that.”

“Hey guys, I’m right here,” Alfred piped in. Matthew moved his legs to the side so he could stare down at the other, Alfred finally sitting up, already starting up a pout.

“You were the one ignoring us instead of explaining why you’re so hyper,” Matthew countered, squeaking when Alfred jumped up and threw himself onto the bed in between them. There was barely enough room for three grown boys, but the blond didn’t seem to give a care in the world.

“I did it you guys! Oh my God I’m so happy!”

“You already said that,” Kiku grumbled, starting to feel a mild discomfort at this much bodily contact. “Alfred, I don’t mean to pry, but if I might ask, _what_ exactly are you happy about?” Might as well humour his roommate, as there would be no stopping the guy’s bubbly squeals until he got to have his say.

Alfred’s face suddenly grew serious, staring at the headboard before him, with an expression that made much more clear than any of his goofy spats ever would why people considered him handsome. There was a sense of almost comical wonder about him, as if he was surprised to see that he was in his own bedroom, or that he was a living human being, sharing the look a father would give his newborn child upon first touch.

“I kissed him,” he whispered, all but overcome with awe. His tongue darted out to taste along his lips, as if Ivan’s presence could still be felt there. A satisfied grin slowly began to grow, and blissful snorts and giggles once more escaped his lips. “I kissed him, and it was motherfucking awesome!”

“Kissed…Ivan?” Matthew asked in disbelief, having to raise his voice to be audible above the constant siren that was a jubilant Alfred. “He really let you kiss him?”

“Congratulations, Alfred,” Kiku nodded with a small smile, hoping this would mean the end of Alfred’s constant lovesick (horny) whining. Maybe now that he had gotten his kiss, he could focus on more important matters again. Like the new season of _One Punch Man_ they had been patiently waiting for!

“Alfred, can you please stop kicking me?!” Matthew huffed, attempting to push the other off, creating a small struggle as Kiku was temporarily smothered by the unstoppable American. At long last Alfred jumped off the bed again, giving the other two a moment to collect themselves, while he performed a victory dance beside them.

“Who’s awesome? This guy!” He did a sort of whacky moonwalk that would make Michael Jackson roll over in his grave, but he couldn’t care less about how stupid or cringe-worthy he looked at that moment. “Who’s finally gonna have sex? This guy! Who’s gonna have the sexiest boyfriend on campus? THIS GUY—“

“So you two are dating now?” Matthew interrupted, and Alfred seemed to freeze mid-step, as if struck by lightning.

“Uh…”

“You _did_ say you kissed him, right?” the softer blond pushed on, a sense of dread filling him as Alfred starting sweating, still frozen. “And he _did_ consent to the kiss? You didn’t just assault him? Or was that all just a dream you’re getting so excited about?”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Alfred said thinly, voice sounding oddly dry.

“Did you propose to him?” Kiku asked, and Alfred took a moment to give him an incredulous look before having to answer to his brother.

“Alfred, tell me what happened. I don’t want to hear you got a restraining order.”

“Why on earth would I get a restraining order?” Alfred mumbled indignantly, starting to move into a more defensive stance, arms slung over one another, protecting his chest area. “I just told him I like him, and I kissed him, and then—“

“And then _what_ , Alfred?”

The blond looked back and forth between the two of them, happy butterflies making room for nervously buzzing wasps.

“…And I said some stuff about how I vowed to make him mine and ran off.” It sounded kind of melodramatic now that he was thinking about it…but melodramatic was good, right? It was romantic, right??

“You ran off,” Matthew repeated, and Alfred didn’t like the look he sent him at all, an older-brother-I-told-you-so look he had received far too many times over the course of their shared youth.

“Yeah, but, I mean, he was sick so I couldn’t—“

“You kissed a sick man?” Kiku asked, mouth twitching back in either pity or disgust. (What if Alfred had gotten some sort of mouth herpes now? Kiku would have to continue sharing a room with him, the man who went around kissing the ill!)

“I know it sounds bad, but—“

“And Ivan didn’t have any problem with you kissing him?” Matthew grabbed Alfred’s shoulders, forcing the rest of the story out of him. “He was fine with you kissing him while he was sick, and you declaring your love to him, and…?”

“And…” Alfred wanted so badly to say “and then I asked him out and he said yes”, or “and then we agreed to start dating”, or even a simple “he gave me his number”, but no. None of those things had happened. Because he had run off before— “I kinda…left before he could react,” he laughed, like it was the most hilarious thing he had ever said, even though his eyes shifted left and right as if looking for a way to escape.

“Alfred, you are the biggest idiot I know,” Matthew growled, eyes narrowing to condescending slits.

“A loveable idiot, right?” Alfred asked with his sweetest puppy eyes, after which Kiku slapped a hand against his forehead.


	12. No Reaction/Chain Reaction

Alfred was quietly setting up the experiment for today’s class. His hands were quivering, and he continuously had to steady his grip in order not to break anything. Ivan hadn’t arrived yet. Which meant he was either still sick, waiting to make a dramatic entrance, or…or he was pissed.

Which he couldn’t be—he simply wasn’t allowed to! Alfred had confessed his feelings, and, and…didn’t he deserve Ivan’s love now? Or at least his not-being-disinterested? He had said he would do his best to win Ivan’s love. The least his Russian sweetheart could do was give him a chance. There was simply no other way—he felt something like a hot coal in his throat at the mere thought of Ivan not wanting to have anything to do with him. What if last night’s kiss had been the only one he’d ever get, both the first and last sweet taste of those feather-soft lips?

“Dammit,” he cursed, letting out a hiss when he _did_ almost drop an Erlenmeyer. They hadn’t even gotten past first base yet! He was never going to live through this sexual frustration if Ivan gave up on him now. He was—

The sound of a door creaking open. Alfred whirled towards it, the item this time slipping through his fingers for real. The sound of breaking glass didn’t rise above the distant white noise in his ears as he looked at Ivan wide-eyed, the other staring back, still standing in the doorway, one hand on the doorknob.

Several seconds passed like that, before amethyst pools wandered down, a fine frown finding its way to his face. “You broke something. You will have to pay for that yourself, you know.”

Alfred seemed to snap out of some sort of trance, gasping and instantly kneeling down to start picking up the pieces. “I-I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention…I’ll take care of it, no worries!”

Ivan rolled his eyes, then closed the door behind him and walked further in. Alfred secretly continued watching him as he scraped the pieces of his broken heart together—uh, broken instrument, that is. Ivan didn’t seem to behave any different than he did on other days, the fever having disappeared from his round cheeks, gaze focussed on something playing in his mind and his alone. His step was heavy and purposeful, and he didn’t spare Alfred a single glance.

Finishing up and throwing all the shards into the garbage bin, Alfred scraped his throat. “So you’re feeling better then?”

Ivan was unpacking his things, back turned towards him “ _Da_ , much better. It was simply a cold.”

“Good, good,” Alfred said distractedly, heart fluttering anxiously. “You managed to get that work done?”

Another curd nod, Ivan obviously not paying much attention to him. Alfred felt some of his usual bravado shrink to the size of a grape, dropping through the bottom of his stomach. Still, he was nothing if not persistent, and he refused to leave things at that. Vagueness and guessing had never been his forte, after all. The world was for the brave.

He scraped his throat. “So uh…about last night—“

Ivan pointed somewhere behind him, not even bothering to look around. “Can you get my lab coat for me?”

Alfred blinked, followed the finger to a conspicuous white coat, innocently waiting to be worn. When Ivan wagged his finger insistently, he seemed to become aware that he had muscles, and jerkily moved forward. “Oh—right. Sure. Gotcha.”

The blond quickly walked over and gathered the garment in his arms, eyes never leaving that broad, slightly hunched back. As he was walking towards him, he let out a shaky chuckle. “So uh, as I was saying, about—“

Ivan held out his hand, cutting the other off. Alfred felt the raisin sink through several layers of intestines as he parted with the coat, watching how Ivan slid it on in one fluid motion. As he did so, his formless sweater was hunched up ever so slightly, revealing a patch of milky white plush above the rim of his pants. Immediately Alfred felt his blood boil and resolve harden.

“Ivan, I really wanna talk to you about—“

“We should get ready for class,” Ivan mumbled, more to himself than to Alfred, as if he was barely aware of the other’s presence. He turned back to the table, inspecting the equipment.

Alfred scowled, running around to appear at the man’s other side. “Yo Ivan, what I’m trying to say is that—“

“Where did I put my papers?” Ivan whispered, once again turning his head. This time, Alfred snapped.

Scooting to the other side of the desk, he angrily slammed his hands down on the surface. The loud bang echoed throughout the empty room, resonating from hollow walls. Finally, the other turned his head just enough for electric blue to clash with burning amethyst, one bearing a look of surprise, the other donning one of impatience.

“Ivan Braginsky, don’t ignore me!”

Ivan blinked owlishly, then shrugged one shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to ignore you,” he simply said, but Alfred could see the hint of apprehensiveness behind his tepid demeanour.

Alfred balled his hands to fists, growling. “Dammit, if you’re that bothered by me kissing you, you should just spit it out!”

Ivan defiantly crossed his arms, averting his gaze with an air of self-inflicted antipathy. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Alfred only felt himself grow more agitated with each passing second, each action of avoiding the subject, avoiding him, the revulsion having come straight out of nowhere. He felt like shoving all equipment from the desk in a dramatic gesture, but his wallet couldn’t exactly afford that. So instead, he walked around it again, coming to stand right in front of his idol, his tutor, his friend and most of all, desired love interest. Ivan _had_ to look at him.

“You don’t wanna talk about it, or you feel like there is nothing _to_ talk about?” Alfred asked for clarification, voice fiercer than ever. “Because it _did_ happen, whether you like it or not!”

Finally, Ivan lost his cool. It happened just like that, like snapping your fingers, blinking. One moment he was still avoiding Alfred’s gaze, mouth twitching with annoyance, fingers drumming on his arm. The next, he was towering over the smaller boy, eyes cold and dark and _smouldering_ , the wide clothes hanging about him only making him seem more of a dangerous predator ready to strike.

Alfred momentarily forgot how to breathe. Oh God, if only Ivan were to take him right then, right there, he wouldn’t even care if he was killed after. How could one man both be adorably blundering and wildly erotic?

“Tell me, Alfred,” the Russian hissed, mother tongue slipping into his tones, making Alfred melt even more. He only hoped his expression wasn’t too slutty right now—but seeing as Ivan was still mad, he was probably in luck.

“What exactly do you hope to gain from kissing me?”

At these words, Alfred paused. Was that question…for real? Wasn’t it plain and painfully obvious for the world to see? However, Ivan seemed serious, not letting down the fierce façade he’d set up for one bit.

“Um…” Alfred tried, eyes shifting left and right. “Like…maybe for you to kiss me back would be nice?” That was usually the expectation.

Ivan slammed his hand down on the desk, making the glass vials and tubes shake ominously. Alfred had performed the exact same action just a moment ago, and yet it seemed so much more intimidating when Ivan did it.

“Is this a joke to you? Are my troubles funny?”

Alfred slowly began putting his hands up, shaking his head. “Dude, I seriously have no idea what you’re talking abou—“

“Yesterday!” Ivan’s voice almost shook the room with its intensity. “I was sick, I let you into the safety of my apartment. I tell you secrets I have never told anyone before.” Something became more emotional in his hardened glare, almost fragile, delicately dancing the line of what was said and what was meant. “You took advantage of my moment of weakness, to, to…to what?! Did you have hidden camera?”

“No!”

“Then did you simply want to force a first kiss upon me, because it is pathetic for someone my age not to have kissed before?”

“No—I mean, well I—“

Ivan grabbed the other by the collar, almost lifting him off the ground. Their noses were mere inches apart, and Alfred could count Ivan’s eyelashes.

“Tell me the truth. What other intentions could you have? Why on earth would you pester me like that, after making me think you were my friend, after—“ He could go on. On and on and on, until there was nothing but emptiness left. He wanted to vent it all onto his lab partner, his only friend in this entire institute, or at least, that’s what he had thought. How naïve of him, how childlike in hope and dreams.

Luckily, Alfred thought differently.

“Ivan!” he said, boldly capturing the other’s shoulders, gaze unfaltering as he braved the storm of Ivan’s rage. “I have literally no idea why you’d think I would kiss you just to make fun of you, or whatever else you were thinking. I told you exactly what I feel yesterday! It wasn’t a lie, wasn’t a joke, I really, _really_ , like you!”

Ivan’s expression became more stubborn, not bothering to put Alfred to the ground just yet. “Liar. You are simply playing again.“

“No way!” Alfred yelped, leaning forward in an attempt to kiss him a second time. Now Ivan _did_ let go, if only to step back.

“Stop that!” he hissed, sound like angry wasps buzzing in his mouth.

Alfred spread his arms wide, a gesture of open surrender. “I have no idea how I could make it more clear to you! I like you! I would love to go on dates with you! What’s so weird about that?”

Ivan glared at him with tiny slits for eyes, calculating. He slowly tilted his head to the side. “How can I trust you are telling the truth?” he asked suspiciously, tasting every vowel as if he hadn’t even begun to think of the implications of Alfred actually liking him—what that would mean for him as a person.

“You’re just gonna have to trust me,” Alfred said, feeling like his life depended on Ivan accepting the truth for what it was. He honestly couldn’t believe he had been worrying about Ivan rejecting him just a few minutes ago, and in truth, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out whether this outcome was better or worse.

“I said I wanted to work with you. And I started to work with you. And tell me—have I let you down on that part?”

Ivan tilted his head to the other side. “…I suppose not.”

“Good. Then I tell you I wanna be your friend. I wanna know about you, and spend time with you. Tell me Ivan, what did I do to keep to that promise?”

Ivan’s anger began to melt a little, making place for a borderline captivating confusion. “You…asked me questions about me and tried to spend time with me.” It was as if slowly, there was something of an idea, a tiny bud, that had only now begun to develop in his mind.

Alfred took a step closer, deeming it safe to approach the beast now that it had calmed down a bit. His heart was still hammering furiously against his ribs, probably bruising them on the inside. It was worth it. He prayed to God it was worth it.

“And now,” he said, looking straight up, into those eyes that were wide with wonder, just a moment ago having been so hot they could kill. “I’m telling you I’d like to date you. I wanna kiss you, and be with you, and have se-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……perate experiments with you that aren’t for class!” Nice save. Real smooth. He was a lady killer. Of guys.

Only, he wasn’t smooth enough. Because Ivan was gaping at him open-mouthed, cheeks first pink, then a deep crimson, a stark contrast to the pale porcelain his skin was made of.

“You want to do _what_ with me?” he asked, as if the mere concept was completely alien to him.

Only, before Alfred could even think about explaining himself, the door was opened and the first of his classmates began filing into the room. Ivan was still staring, and Alfred felt like his own face was more than a little warm. Were they matching right now?

A couple of curious stares were sent their way. His toes felt numb. Were toes supposed to do that? Was this how you confessed your undying boner for you one true love?

Was the second Deadpool going to be as good as the first one?

God only knew.


	13. I am positive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *arrives several months late to this chapter with a hot cocoa and a killer headache*
> 
> Surprise! I haven’t abandoned this story. I’ve just been really busy with December prompts, finals, and life in general. Have a slightly longer chapter as a humble apology.

That had to be the most awkward and uncomfortable two hours of Alfred’s life. At least, at first.

Since Ivan was professor Munch’s assistant, and Alfred was professor Munch’s assistant’s assistant, neither of them had been able to make their escape after that mortifying confession. Oh, and Alfred could definitely tell that Ivan was _dying_ to flee the premises. It was very clear in his rigid stance, the way his eyes bulged whenever their gazes accidentally crossed, how his usually spot-on hand-eye coordination now made him almost-drop all kinds of objects, the borderline feverish blush permanently staining his cheeks (he told Munch it was just the last bits of his illness, but he felt fine, he swore to his grandfather’s grave).

But then Alfred started to notice things. Because even though he himself felt ready to dig a grave and make it his home, never showing his face again to the mortal world, he was hyper-focused on every single twitch Ivan gave. And those twitches might prove to be useful somehow.

For example, there was the fact that Ivan let out a strange high-pitched honk, like someone had stepped on a goose, when Alfred bent over to pick up one of the pens Ivan had dropped (he had to force a coughing fit right after to cover up for the noise). Or the other time, when Alfred had caught him staring, and instead of either looking away, he had simply burnt his eyes into Ivan’s, trapping his gaze in one of the most smouldering glares he could muster, mentally willing the blue of his irises to become the exact colour of the ocean, or a jewel of inestimable worth. Ivan had looked away a couple of seconds too late, pulling at his scarf, looking like a fish that had been thrown onto dry land, indignantly spluttering and gasping for air.

Ivan wasn’t necessarily _appalled_ by the fact that Alfred had the hots for him. Oh no. No, nonono. He was something much better.

Ivan was _flustered_. Shy, perhaps, taken by complete surprise. But there was no way this behaviour indicated any kind of disgust towards his “friend”. Alfred stood a chance. Even better than that. Because if he could make Ivan this flustered just by looking at him or offhandedly showing his butt…imagine how Ivan would react if he turned up the flirting to maximum levels?

Alfred’s lips curled up into a sly and cunning smile, eyes hooded as he continued leering at his prey. So Ivan hadn’t expected Alfred’s confession? Hadn’t even thought about the possibility that Alfred would want to have sex with him? Fine. Splendid. The only thing left to do was simply…lay it on a little thicker. That would leave no room for any future misunderstandings.

_Ivan Braginsky, before the end of the semester you’ll be in my pants, you can count on it._

(And it was a good thing that they had to wear big white lab coats, because nothing else would have covered up the hard-on he got from thinking about all the delicious things Ivan could do to him once he was finally conquered.)

* * *

It was Friday afternoon. _Thank God_ , it was finally Friday afternoon. He had survived. He had survived a whole week of…whatever it was that Alfred F. Jones thought he was doing.

Ivan let the stress and tension of the last week slip off his shoulders as he dropped his bag onto the floor of his apartment, releasing his tired feet from their confines and nestling them into soft and warm loafers. Never before had he been this glad to see the week flow into the weekend, two divine days without classes, where he had some time to spend with himself. Usually he had a lot more of that, but, well, there was one problem that had recently gotten in the way of that…

Alfred. Alfred the Golden Boy, Alfred the idiot, the show-off, the athlete. The _genius_. Because even though Ivan didn’t fully grasp Alfred’s masterplan, he did know that it must be working. Working on Ivan’s nerves, that is.

Either Alfred was the best stalker in the history of sociopaths and serial killers, or he’d had the best of luck. Because every spare moment Ivan had had this last week, Alfred had managed to show up and ruin it. If it were just for that fact, Ivan could have managed to live with it—after all, Alfred _had_ told him they were friends, and Ivan supposed friends did indeed spend their free time together, even if one of them had his hands full 24/7 and really didn’t have the time to do all that friendly friend stuff (even though he had to admit that he _could_ allow himself a little more relaxation every now and then, if it weren’t for the fact that he was such a perfectionist). But this… Ivan was absolutely sure friends didn’t do this. He was also one hundred percent certain that it had everything to do with Alfred’s…declarations.

Wherever Ivan went. Whether it be the cafeteria, his desk in Munch’s office, the classroom, the library, even some of the shops he had visited, the toilets! Alfred had been there. Running into him “by chance”. As if the sly bastard hadn’t planned on tormenting him so.

Monday afternoon.

Alfred had showed up in his office, saying he wanted to say goodbye before heading home for the day. Had lifted himself onto Ivan’s desk, one leg stretched out over the surface, plump thigh slightly flattened, stretched against the fabric of his dark blue jeans. The boy leaning over Ivan while he worked, he could _feel_ those blue eyes wandering over his body, their magnetic force pulling playfully at his nerves, constantly making his presence known. Ivan hadn’t looked up, trying to focus on his papers, even though he’d read the same line about fifteen times already. He knew they should talk about…that lunatic proclamation. Surely it had been in jest? But Alfred had left without saying anything other than a “see you tomorrow, and sweet dreams”, which only left Ivan more confused. They…weren’t? Going to talk about it? And Alfred hadn’t come to…follow up—no. Of course he hadn’t. Because it had indeed just been that, a hoax, a farce, a cruel joke. Still, Ivan couldn’t stop thinking about him for the rest of the day, seeing himself forced to quit early, as he didn’t get any work done.

Tuesday.

First thing in the morning, Alfred had showed up at his apartment. Wanted to walk him to school. As if they were _children_. Still, he couldn’t say no—they were heading the same direction, this was a free country, even if he did knock Alfred’s lights out for starting to be an annoying little pest, no good would come from that. Alfred had walked right beside him, mere inches away, chattering on and on about this and that, none of it truly registering to Ivan. Because none of it was about that one, pressing matter, and their hands were _this close_ to touching, but it was like Alfred deliberately didn’t cross the remaining distance, deliberately fed fire to that field of electricity which Ivan was sure was unscientific in every way and shouldn’t possibly exist. “Everything okay, hot stuff?” Alfred had chuckled, noticing Ivan’s staring as he had been trying to find that field, leaving Ivan once more confused. No one had ever called him that before. Simply more teasing?

Then later, at lunch. Alfred had followed him again. He was wearing some very tightly fitting clothes today, making grand gestures to show off his muscles. Ivan _knew_ he did it just to catch Ivan staring, which he wasn’t, because he wasn’t going to fall for this trap. He _did_ stare for a moment, although it was more a stupefied gaping, when he felt a socked foot travel up his leg, teasingly drawing circles on his knee. All logic thought abandoning him, he had taken his tray and left, stumbling a little, feeling like he was overheating (with shame, that must be it, because Alfred was really the devil in disguise, going this far for a prank).

Wednesday.

Alfred showing up in the bathroom. Taking the stall right next to him, even though there were several others free. Wasn’t there a rule against that? Now normally, Ivan couldn’t have cared less. He wasn’t all that big on…person bubbles, or whatever people called it. But he could feel it. Those eyes. Secretively taking him in, sizing him up (and down). Watching. Ivan was steaming by the time Alfred finished up, whispering a “see you in class, _big_ guy”.

He found a box of chocolates on his desk. Along with an article on edible aphrodisiacs.

Alfred catching up to him in the hallway, to make more “small-talk”. Which was really only lewd insinuations, or Ivan thought they were, because there was no way anyone was _that_ interested in hot dogs.

Alfred didn’t even leave him be at night, when he lay in bed, eyes wide open, staring at the wall, that single “big guy” turning and tossing in his head. Was he really that big? Surely Alfred hadn’t _actually_ looked, and even then…why would he care? Why would…

His hand was balled into a fist, legs tightly squeezing together. Why had _he_ of all people been chosen as Alfred’s target? Hadn’t he had enough by now?

Thursday.

By now, Ivan was ever-alert, speeding through the hallways whenever he had to leave his office, locking it when the professor was out so that no one could sneak in, eating his lunch inside. Alfred didn’t show up, didn’t bother him, didn’t even try to take him out for anything, anywhere. So why was Alfred still all Ivan could think about?

And now finally, Friday. He had escaped this Alfred-centred hell. For now. Because knowing Alfred (and oh yes, he was definitely starting to know him, Alfred was making quick work of that), he wouldn’t stop simply because they didn’t see each other a couple of days. Because for whatever reason, that boy had become obsessed with him, Ivan Braginsky, because…

Ivan groaned when he remember that he still had to run to the store. With all the stalking Alfred had done, his regular chores had completely slipped his mind. He quickly exchanged his papers for a shopping bag, tucked away his wallet, and apologised to his feet for once more needing to drag them outside. He promised himself a nice meal tonight, maybe some Chicken Kiev, after his sister’s recipe. That always managed to cheer him up.

No Alfred when he exited the elevator, luckily. He was free for a while. The cool ear whipped up his scarf as his tall figure moved steadily through the wind, feeling the first bite of winter. Had it already been several months since Alfred had first introduced himself? He couldn’t quite manage to wrap his head around that one.

The store wasn’t too filled, but still he had to wait in line for quite some time. Fresh vegetables and fruit, some liquids to help him through perhaps another sleepless night (insomnia wasn’t out of the ordinary when your life was connected to a college or university), sour cream, some meat for making stew. Right as he was paying for his purchases, he spotted a familiar face. A face that made his own turn pale, his hands snatch up the receipt, and his legs duck his body out of sight…until he realised it wasn’t Alfred. No, this one looked very alike, but it wasn’t him.

“Yeah, I’m staying another weekend. I hope he didn’t forget again.” The boy was talking into his phone, smiling delicately as the cashier informed him of the amount of money he owed the store. There was certainly a big resemblance—from the framework to the shape of the eyes, full lips, almost elegant neck. If this wasn’t family, Ivan would eat his hat (not that he had one on).

“Okay dad, I’ll tell him. Not that he’ll listen. Love you too.” The boy hung up, put away his groceries, lifted them up, made for the door.

Ivan hesitated only a moment.

“Ah, wait!”

* * *

“Alfred did _what_?”

The two of them were sitting in a little bistro somewhere, squeezed into a small booth by the window. Their shopping bags lay at their feet, momentarily forgotten (surely the meat wouldn’t be spoiled by the time they got back home). As Ivan had correctly guessed, this boy was none other than Alfred’s twin brother, hence the shocking resemblances.

Ivan sat slumped over a cup of steaming tea, perpetually cold hands cradled close to the heat. “Last Friday. I think he would call it a ‘confession’. I still see it more as a prank. He has not left me alone at all this week.”

Matthew thoughtfully stirred his cappuccino, the fingers of his free hand drumming the table top. He was shaking his head, brow furrowed into a delicate frown that looked a lot less angry and a lot more annoyed, seemingly Alfred, and yet not at all the same.

“I’m sorry you had to live through that. I always tell Alfred he’s a moron, and that his methods are more than a little unorthodox, but he doesn’t want to listen to me.”

Ivan let out a dry chuckle. “Tell me about it.” He looked deep into his cup, its contents swirling into a soothing circle, entrancing almost. Then his gaze flashed back up. “So it is all part of a prank? A joke? An evil plan to make a fool out of me?” Something stung, constricted in his stomach. Even though he had convinced himself of Alfred’s capabilities as a wicked evildoer a long time ago, it still hurt a little. Not only his pride, but…he was actually starting to _enjoy_ all the attention.

Matthew took a sip, mien calculated, a careful construal of thoughtfulness. “You want the truth, or you want me to agree with you?” Ivan might not like the truth. But he definitely didn’t like the “truth” he himself had created.

“What is there to say?” Ivan sighed, but he shrugged. “Shoot.” Or however people said that—he never quite got the American slang.

Matthew put his cup back down. “It’s not a prank. Believe me, I wish it was too. Not because I hate you or anything!” he quickly amended, realising how wrong that sounded. “It’s just…this is my brother’s way of flirting. Apparently. Because he’s gotten it into his head that you’re the most sexy person on this planet, and that he’ll die if he doesn’t end up with you.” He pulled a face, not really happy that he had to be the one to relay this to the Russian.

Ivan was staring at him, disbelieving. “You are joking as well?” Brothers, after all.

Matthew snorted. “You don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to. But I know my brother better than anyone else. And he’s been whining about you for _months_ , and it’s really getting tiring. I’m sorry to break it to you, but he’s sincere in every way. I think what he’s been doing last week is just his way of playing hard to get.”

Ivan tilted his head, narrowed his eyes. “Then…” He blinked, tried again. “So everything Alfred has been doing, everything he said…he meant all that?”

Matthew shrugged, smile pitiful. “Pretty much, I think.”

Ivan once more stared into his cup. Continued to stare. Tried to process what he had just learnt.

Alfred had told him he was in love with him. Alfred had told him he wanted to have sex with him. He, Alfred Foster Jones, wanted to have sex with him, Ivan Braginsky, assistant of professor Munch, getting a PhD in analytical chemistry, full-time einzelganger and self-proclaimed workaholic. And Alfred wanted to have sex with _him_. Because Alfred thought he was sexy. Because…because he was a “big guy”. Because something about him was…sexy. To Alfred. Alfred truly was the strangest creature to walk this earth.

Ivan let out a snort, a reaction of his mind trying to work through all this. Matthew smiled, placed a hand on his arm. “I’ll tell him to leave you alone, if you want that. But please don’t get a restraining order, or sue him for sexual intimidation or anything. He’s really not that bad of a guy.”

 _Did_ he want that?

Then it struck him, like a lightning bolt splitting his skull, flying through his veins all the way down to his little toes.

Alfred had, for whatever reason, proclaimed his undying love for Ivan. Surely, this needed a response, whether it be positive or negative (because Ivan was _positive_ that was how social relations worked, even though he was also _positive_ that flirting didn’t actually work that way, despite his lack of knowledge on the subject).

But what did he want?

* * *

Ivan was lying in bed again, staring at the walls. Everything of the last few hours, of the last few days, was once more playing in his head, like a broken record needing constant rewinding.

What to do with all this new information? Surely they couldn’t go on like this. He needed his mind back on his work, and Alfred simply needed to stop, because he too had finals to focus on now that winter was approaching, and he was simply being an annoying little pest, flirting or not.

How to stop him. Ivan could punch him, but again, repercussions. And as much as Alfred was working on his nerves, he didn’t actually want to introduce physical violence to their relationship.

He could tell the blond to stop it. Surely Alfred would eventually leave him alone if Ivan showed he wasn’t interested. That _was_ how you did it, right? Simply tell a pursuer to stop. He hadn’t actually been pursued before, so he only had theoretical knowledge to fall back on, but he was pretty sure that was how it worked.

And then the third option. Because there was indeed a third option. An option Ivan hadn’t even begun thinking about, because it was absurd.

Actually giving Alfred what he wanted. Getting together. Doing…couple-stuff. Kissing, holding hands, hugging, going on dates…

Sex.

Something squeezed in Ivan’s gut, and he swallowed. It was ridiculous for a man his age never to have had sex before. He knew that. But it had never really mattered to him, because dating had never been an option. The few times he _had_ been interested in someone, they hadn’t returned the sentiment, and after that he had been too busy with school and then building up a scholarly career. He didn’t have time for dating. He had always told himself he was fine with that, that he didn’t need it, and for a long while he _had_ been perfectly fine, too busy to think about anything but his work.

And then came Alfred.

Alfred, the excited puppy, always tagging behind, wagging his tail, ready to do whatever Ivan told him, whenever he wanted it to be done. All smiles and sunshine, an undying source of energy and warmth, brightly nodding and skipping, bubbly in character and sunny in demeanour. He had the whitest teeth imaginable, and hair that looked like it had been baked at 200 degrees Celsius in a brick-kiln, gaining that crispy golden glow that made your mouth water. He didn’t smell of anything too special; too much aftershave (to impress him?), something boyish and simple. He had the bluest eyes, and somehow they were always looking right at him.

Ivan froze for a second when another thought popped up in his mind; what would Alfred look like in the throes of lust? He had no idea why he was thinking about that, it had never even occurred to him before. Must be Alfred’s fault, by making Ivan think about him that often. Well, if that had been his evil masterplan, then it was working, because now that the suggestion had been presented, Ivan couldn’t get rid of it.

Ivan’s figure stiffened further as a sudden onslaught of images shot through his mind—Alfred shirtless after a match, slightly sweaty as he lifted his damp locks from his eyes, sending Ivan a suggestive hooded leer; Alfred sneaking up on him from behind, that electric field warning Ivan of his presence even before he could feel those strong hands slipping under his shirt; Alfred panting, dropping to his knees, eyes glassy.

Most of the images didn’t make sense; after all, he had no idea what Alfred looked like under all those clothes. But a sudden needy constricting of his gut told him that he wouldn’t mind knowing, not after all that had happened.

Ivan lay in bed, mortified by his own mind, by the reactions his body was given. Well, there was his answer. Merely thinking about performing sinful acts with Alfred made him rock-hard. Of course he had masturbated before, even to the image of someone else, but never when knowing that the one he was thinking about actually _wanted_ him, in that way. It felt bad, somehow, taking himself in hand now, as if Alfred was in the room with him, knowing what he was about to do, hungrily keeping watch over him. Oh, and Alfred would be hungry, and he would be excited, and his head would be divine bopping up and down at that enthusiastic tempo only he could—

“Nnnn…” Ivan muffled a moan into his left hand as the other finally slipped under his waistband, pumping at a speedy tempo. Maybe if he did it quickly it wouldn’t feel so, so…so what? _What_ exactly, was wrong about this? Was it simply his virginal mind playing tricks on him, trying to tell him that what he was doing was wrong, even though it was a perfectly natural biological reaction of friction-induced pleasure?

Maybe it was because he knew that he had to face Alfred again after this, knowing fully well he had masturbated to the mere sight of his sultry smile, getting off on that lean body (which by the way, shouldn’t be _this_ exciting, since Alfred was an annoying pest). Maybe he was simply prematurely ashamed, as if Alfred would _know_ , just by looking at him, as if anyone would _know_ , as if him touching himself now, would be written all over his face tomorrow. Which was absurd. And which didn’t help in cooling him down at all.

Ivan buried his face into the pillow as he continued to move his hand up and down, already feeling the familiar pull in his groin, softly telling his body to hurry it up under his breath, hips thrusting forward on their own accord. There was nothing wrong with masturbating. It was perfectly natural.

And still, after he came with a drawn-out groan, spilling himself into his still pumping hand, falling back onto the mattress afterwards, he felt like he had done all the wrong things.

Because now that he had readily masturbated to Alfred’s image, surely Alfred would expect him to be ready for sex? And that was another dilemma altogether.


	14. I've got my ion you

Matthew opened the door to his brother and Kiku’s apartment, walking through the darkness with one hand on the wall in search for the light switch, the other holding his bag of groceries. He nearly dropped it when the light suddenly blipped into existence on its own accord, the boy spinning on his heels with eyes wide before he spotted his brother, sitting on the table in the middle of the room. He sighed, free hand clutching his shirt. “Jesus Al, you scared me!”

“Jesus? I guess that makes you my Judas.”

Matthew furrowed his brow. “Excuse me?”

Alfred’s expression was cool and calculating as he slipped off the table, crossing his arms only to continue glaring at his brother. “Oh, don’t play dumb on me. I saw you two!”

“Saw who…?” Matthew was utterly confused. Why couldn’t Alfred ever talk to him like a normal person?

Alfred pointed an accusatory finger at him, as if he were a certain blue-suited defence attorney in a video game, ready to yell OBJECTION! “I saw you and Ivan, being all jolly on your little date! How could you, Mattie? HOW COULD YOU!”

Oh. It made sense now. Well, the part where Alfred had run full-face into a wall of huge misunderstandings. But this was easy to explain.

“I wasn’t on a date with him,” Matthew sighed, putting down the shopping bag, ignoring those piercing eyes trying to burn holes into the back of his head. “I just ran into him in the supermarket, and he wanted to talk to me. Guess he recognised me as your brother.” Which wasn’t that surprising—when they were still little kids, Alfred and Matthew had often tricked adults into thinking they were the other. Both brothers were surprisingly good actors when they put their heart into it.

“Lies!” Alfred hollered, grabbing a newspaper and throwing it into the air for an extra touch of flair. Matthew was unimpressed.

Kiku opened the door to his bedroom. “Could you please keep it down? I have an assignment due tomorrow.”

“Sorry,” Matthew mouthed at him, and the two waited for the door to fall shut before continuing their argument. “I’m not lying! Ask him, he’ll tell you the same. Or wait—don’t ask him.” He took some vegetables from the bag and placed them on the table; time to feed Alfred something different than instant noodles, takeaway meals and microwave dishes.

“And why not, huh?” Alfred hissed, voice penetrating despite the lowered volume. “Afraid you’ll be called out for the stinking liar you are?”

“Words hurt, Al,” Matt huffed, starting to be quite done with Alfred’s behaviour. “You shouldn’t talk to him again, because you’re behaving like a stalker. It’s a miracle he hasn’t sent the police on you yet.”

“WHAT?” Alfred yelled, immediately closing his mouth as they both stared at Kiku’s door for a minute. When the Japanese didn’t re-emerge, Alfred once again looked at his twin, expression wild.

“I’m not being a stalker! I’m just…giving him a little push, because he’s shy!”

“Shy, or not interested?” Matthew began furiously cutting up onions. “Face it Al, maybe he just hasn’t found the courage to tell you yet. He told _me_ that he didn’t understand your way of ‘flirting’ at all.” He began tearing up, but angrily continued attacking the onions. “I bet you still haven’t asked him what _he_ wants.”

Alfred opened his mouth several times, ready to strike back, but something hollow had settled in his stomach. No way…was that really what Ivan thought of him? That he was some kind of creepy stalker? No…no way! Surely they’d been making progress, surely Ivan’s reactions to his flirting had been positive! He hadn’t flirted _back_ or anything, but he was inexperienced, he was…

“You suck!” Alfred finally growled at him, and, not caring about the noise he made, he stomped over to his room and slammed the door shut.

Matthew flinched a little, hands trembling. “I just want you to face reality before you get hurt…” he mumbled to himself, and the next sniff didn’t just come from the onions.

* * *

Alfred hadn’t slept too well that night. He’d come out of his room again to eat dinner, neither brother saying a word as Kiku tried to keep up the illusion of a conversation. After that he had been lying wide awake in bed, listening to the evened-out breathing coming from the lump of sleeping bag that was Matthew, that uncertainty from before coming back full-force, gnawing away at his intestines.

Right. Time to properly ask Ivan what it was that _he_ wanted. It was the only solution of getting rid of this doubt. And if he got a no…then he would just have to deal with that. Because he wasn’t a stalker, he was just a little lovesick. A little a lot.

Alfred told the other two his plan over breakfast, and despite the way things had ended the night before, he got full encouragement from the both of them. Maybe Matthew felt sorry for not taking his feelings seriously, and maybe Alfred felt bad for lashing out at him. Either way, he somehow felt like the outcome of Monday’s confrontation would also affect his and Mattie’s relationship. And somehow, he knew both he and Matthew wanted the same thing: for him to be happy. Because that’s what brothers are for, right?

Alfred left early that Monday, his step lacking a bounce this particular morning. It felt like he was walking to the gallows or something. Yes or no…two options, one amazing, one horrible. How could such a simple word hold so much power over him?

When Alfred arrived at Munch’s office, Ivan was there already. Of course he was. If Alfred hadn’t seen his apartment before, he’d think Ivan lived in the school building.

Ivan looked up when he heard footsteps, and their gazes crossed. Caught, neither able to look away. Alfred felt like a deer in the headlights, but from the looks of it, the same could be said about Ivan. He felt his stomach roll over when the other quickly looked away, immediately busying himself with the papers lying on his desk, as if there was nothing more interesting in the world than paperwork.

Alfred scraped his throat. “Hi.”

A single quiver travelled through Ivan’s body, and he nodded. His nose buried itself deeper into his scarf, like a turtle withdrawing into its shell. Alfred took a deep breath. “Listen, we need to… Do you have a moment to talk?”

Ivan’s movements slowed down, and his eyes flashed up for a fraction of a second. Maybe he was afraid Alfred was going to say something stupid again to embarrass him, simply keep up the idiotic flirting (and oh man, Alfred felt like an idiot now, seeing Ivan this defensive, even avoiding having to look at him).

Alfred dropped his bag in a corner and walked forward, hands in his pockets, expression filled with remorse. “Look, I’m sorry okay? If I’m making you uncomfortable.” Ivan didn’t look up again, but Alfred could tell he was listening when he flipped the same page over three times. “I know what you did Friday night.”

And then, it was as if Alfred had dropped a bomb. At his words, Ivan shot up straight, eyes nearly bulging from their sockets, cheeks going from all but white to a nice tomato red within seconds. “You—what?! How?” Those big hands were restlessly strangling his own scarf, squeezing and wringing out the tips.

Alfred sheepishly blinked up at him, not having expected this reaction in the slightest. For a moment, he returned to his previous conclusion: that Matthew and Ivan had gone on a date together. But his logical side (yes, he had one) quickly pushed that thought away; it wouldn’t do to distrust his twin so easily. He ignored the squeezing in his gut (because Ivan _did_ look oh so pretty in pink, all flustered and adoringly handsome), and carefully chose his next words. “Uh, yeah? Mattie told me that you guys had a talk.” Better not tell Ivan that he’d spotted them, looking through the bistro’s window.

Ivan blinked, stupefied. Alfred could see the exact moment in which it clicked, in which Ivan’s rigid figure lightly slumped, as if something extremely heavy had slipped from his broad shoulders. “O-oh… He did, didn’t he?” The pale blond let out a little exasperated chuckle.

Alfred was nodding slowly, trying to wrap his mind around why on earth Ivan would have reacted like that. And now he was looking away again! Wait…

“What did you think I was gonna say?” he asked, suddenly suspicious. He wasn’t usually good at “reading the atmosphere”, blablabla, but there weren’t that many things you did at night that you didn’t want other people knowing about.

Ivan placed on hand on the desk, semi-nonchalantly leaning over, even inspecting his nails as if they were having a perfectly normal conversation. “Oh, nothing,” he said, but it came out a little strained, a little hysterical. “So you and Matvey talked? Good. Sibling relations are important. And…what exactly did he say to you?”

“He said that I was a stalker and should be thrown in jail,” Alfred said in a monotone voice. In all honesty, he didn’t really care that much about his and Matt’s discussion anymore; no, studying Ivan’s physical reactions was much more interesting. The nervous trembling of his fingers, eyes shooting left and right, never sitting still. Even his mouth never stopped moving. “And he also said that we should open up to each other.”

“Open…” Ivan gaped at him.

Alfred explained, “Yeah, you know? Talk about our feelings and stuff?”

“O-oh! _Open up_. _Da_ , perhaps that would be preferable.”

Oh. Oooooooooooooh. That dirty Russian had his mind in the gutter. This time, it wasn’t Alfred who was thinking about the wrong things. OH. Wow. It was an entirely new sensation to be on the other side of things. And Ivan was thinking dirty things because…

Alfred’s eyebrows shot up in a moment of revelation, before dropping into a knowing mien, lips curling up around the edges.

“Ivan, what _did_ you do Friday night.” It wasn’t even a question.

Ivan laughed, and it sounded more like barking, insincere, unsteady. “W-why would you want to know, Jones? What I do in my free time is my own business.”

“I guess that’s true,” Alfred admitted, taking a step closer, his heart skipping a beat when Ivan stepped back. He took another step and another, gaining ground until Ivan was pressed against the wall, no way out (unless he was going to punch his way out, but Alfred hoped Ivan liked him enough not to do that). “But you _did_ agree to being more open to each other.”

Ivan’s eyes darted about, the tall man gulping and pressing his lips into a tight line.

“And I guess I kept to my end of that deal, because I already kinda told ya what it is I’d like to do with you.”

Ivan’s knees were trembling. This was it. No turning back. Alfred’s own hands were balled to tight fists inside his the pockets of his jeans.

“Ivan, would you like to go on a date with me?”

All the air seemed to be sucked from the room. Alfred felt both calm and panicky, especially when Ivan finally looked at him, seeming all kinds of confused. He _had_ wanted to ask a different question at first…but after long consideration, he had decided against it. It was too soon. He didn’t want to lose Ivan by forcing him over the edge, even if…even if Ivan apparently thought about dirty things and Alfred in the same line.

For a moment he felt like jumping off a cliff; maybe he’d just moved their progress back several decades, maybe he had just friend zoned (platonic relationship-zoned?) himself by not going for it, maybe he should’ve just shoved his hand down Ivan’s pants and get fucked right here on the other’s desk, in their teacher’s office.

“A date? Why?” Ivan sounded equally as surprised, and Alfred knew what he had expected, and he cursed himself even more.

“Because,” he ground out, forcing his gaze to lock with Ivan’s. “Openness. Talking. And I don’t want you thinking I’m gonna try to jump you every time I see you.” Not that _he_ wanted to be the jumper. “Plus I still haven’t really listened to what _you_ want, and I don’t wanna move too fast and scare you off—not that I think you’re that easily intimidated, but I—“ He was rambling. Dear Lord, why did he have to be like this…

And then suddenly, he felt a big hand closing around his collar. For just a moment, he thought Ivan was going to strangle him (good, get rid of all the biggest moron on campus), but then Ivan pulled him up, nearly lifting him from the ground (perfectly swiping him off his feet), and crashed their mouths together.

Alfred felt a little spasm shudder through his muscles, as if he had been struck by lightning. His limbs flailed for a moment until his body finally became aware that they were kissing, that IVAN was KISSING HIM, not the other way around. He blinked stupidly as Ivan tilted his head, eyes screwed shut, in an attempt to deepen the kiss. The hand not holding him up was planted forcefully onto his back, like a vice trapping him against Ivan’s body.

Ivan moved his lips, giving him a proper kiss, and suddenly the electricity shot all the way south, Alfred finally stopping his struggle and going limp. He let out a wanton moan as his eyes drooped, lips tingling with the aftermath of the lightning bolt. This was better than any kind of drug you could buy. Better than jerking off to porn, better…okay, probably not better than sex, but _still_. He could die a happy man, right here, right now, held by his crush, being kissed by him, willingly, without needing to initiate anything at all.

When Ivan pulled away he studied Alfred for a moment, gaze scanning those heady eyes, plush lips hanging open in a dazed grin, feeling those usually strong hands weakly grabbing at his sleeves, further down. His impulsive behaviour seemed to evaporate a bit when he took notice of the bulge in Alfred’s pants.

“Um…” The Russian carefully put Alfred down again, keeping a steady hold on him as he watched those knees buckle and feet shuffle, not releasing him until Alfred was slumped in Munch’s office chair (he wasn’t here anyway, no big deal).

“Wow,” Alfred sighed, shivers still dancing over his skin like tiny sparks. “ _Wow_.”

Ivan was playing with his scarf again, looking a little dazed himself, perhaps wondering where he’d found the courage to do that. His tongue darted out to wet his flushed lips.

“Well…date. Right. Friday night?”

Alfred blinked, having to crawl through a thick fog of lust before he could make sense of that sentence. He was still leaning against the back of the chair now, legs spread wide open, not caring in the least that he was on full display. “Date…oh yeah, okay. Friday. Perfect. Dinner at seven? I’ll pick you up at your place.”

Ivan nodded, looking anywhere but at the elephant in the room. He made a sort of squeaking noise when the door opened again, and luckily for the both of them, Alfred wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t straighten up, legs flying shut the exact moment that professor Munch entered his office. The balding man raised an eyebrow upon seeing Alfred.

“Jones?”

Alfred let out one of his boisterous little laughs, quickly grabbing an empty piece of paper and holding it before his crotch as he rose. “Hiyah, Harold! Sorry, I just needed some scrap paper so I came to ask Ivan if he had any.” He shuffled away from the chair, smile plastic. He only hoped that behind him, Ivan hadn’t died. He’d kill Ivan if he dared to die before their date, especially now that having sex was no longer a too-good-to-be-true kinda notion. “Since I got it now, I’ll be on my way again. Love those shoes by the way, new?”

Munch looked slightly flattered as Alfred sprinted out of the office; they had indeed been a new purchase. “He certainly knows how to spray compliments,” he mumbled to himself, smiling, not noticing how Ivan was fanning himself with his laptop.


	15. You're my bromine

Everything was peaceful and quiet in Kiku and Alfred’s apartment. Kiku was out for class, and Matthew was slowly packing his bags, getting ready to catch the train back to his own university later today. The only sound to be heard were clothes being stuffed inside an old duffel bag, and the steady ticking of a clock hanging from the wall right above the front door. At least, that was the case until Alfred came bursting in.

“Mattieeeeeeeeeeee!”

Matthew almost jumped five feet straight up when out of nowhere his brother came barging in, expression wild and grin maniacal, resembling a serial killer ready to commit his next murder.

“Al!” Matthew peeped, suddenly nervous; he still remembered the rather harsh words that had been exchanged between them some evenings before. “I didn’t expect you back so soon, I thought—“ He made another squawking noise when Alfred bounded towards him, instinctively curling in on himself…until he felt two strong arms wrap around his torso, seemingly without effort lifting him up.

“A-Alfred!” Matthew wheezed, flustered, weakly flailing his limbs as Alfred spun him around, cackling. It was true then; his brother had lost his mind.

“Oh Mattie-battie, I’m so happy!”

Mattie-battie? That was a new one. But the nickname _did_ raise some questions. Alfred wouldn’t be coming up with new terms of endearment if he was still angry with him, which meant…

“Alfred, please put me down, I’m gonna be sick,” Matthew softly pleaded, sighing in relief when he felt his toes touch the ground. Alfred kept his hands on the other’s shoulders, still grinning so widely that the corners of his mouth made a million tiny wrinkles in his rosy cheeks.

“Mattie, I did it! I finally did it!”

“By ‘it’, you mean…?”

“I asked him out!” Alfred lunged forward once more, not caring that he was practically squeezing his brother’s lungs to pulp. “I asked him out and he said yes! YES! Can you believe it?! He said it on his own accord, he even—!” A noise like that of a balloon from which a bunch of air escaped at once sounded, combined with the excited honk of a goose. “ _He_ kissed _me_! I have tasted heaven, Mattie, HEAVEN!”

Matthew listened with big eyes, and felt something giddy swell in his stomach when Alfred began gently swaying him around in a sort of slow dance, singing “Heaven, I’m in Heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak~”

“Wow,” Matthew said softly, before letting out a jubilant laugh and slinging his arms around Alfred’s shoulders. “Your persistence really paid off, huh?”

“Yeah it did!” Alfred boasted, audibly grinning from ear to ear.

Matthew buried his face into Alfred’s shoulder. “I’m happy for you,” he mumbled into the fabric of his sweater. “And, I’m sorry for…for saying all that stuff, it’s not that I didn’t believe in you, I just didn’t want you to get hurt, or persecuted, I—“

“Matt,” Alfred said, prying the other loose, looking at his brother with big eyes. “Matt, are you crying?”

Matthew hiccupped, shaking his head. “I-I just, I really don’t like it when we fight, and I was acting like a dick, and—“ The rest of the sentence was smothered into Alfred’s sweater.

“Hey, bro, it’s no big deal! Did you really think I was that angry with you?” Alfred asked, surprise obvious in his voice.

Matthew nodded, feeling both miserable and relieved.  He had felt like he’d been a bad brother, simply because he didn’t take Alfred’s hazardous antics seriously. But well, it was Alfred! All he ever talked about was wanting to get banged, how _could_ Matthew take that seriously?! Still, it was nothing worth fighting over, and he was so happy that Alfred wasn’t holding any grudges (because God knew the boy could hold a grudge forever if he felt like it, even though he just as easily forgave someone when they truly showed remorse).

“I mean, sure, I was kinda pissed when you kept acting like I was a total idiot—“ Matthew cringed. “—but I should actually be thanking you! It’s because of you that got the balls to have a serious conversation with the guy, and…” His smile turned mischievous. “And I think it’s also thanks to you that Ivan realised I’m hot.”

Matthew pulled back, wiping his nose. “Huh?”

Alfred’s smirk was almost devilish now. “Last Friday, when you went out of your way to talk to him? I think you triggered Ivan’s inner sexy animal or something, because—okay, he didn’t actually confess to doing it—I totally know he’s been fantasising about me while masturbating over the weekend.”

Matthew remained quiet for a moment, before making a face and pushing against Alfred’s chest. “Eeeew, Alfred! Why do you think I want to _know_ this kind of stuff?! Gross!”

Alfred was cackling again, not releasing Matthew from the tight grip he had on his arms. “The guy had guilt written all over him! Thanks to you, he finally realised what a sexy beast I am! So hereby, thanks!”

“I take it back, I don’t want any part in this!” Matthew protested, struggling wildly but failing to break free. He supposed this was some sort of punishment, because of course, at least some small part of Alfred had yet to forgive him. Well, he’d rather make Alfred’s homework for a month than this, he was sure of at least that much.

And all the while, Alfred kept laughing, like the evil mastermind he truly was.

~o~

The week leading up to Friday was hard. Terribly so. For both parties, at that.

It seemed to Alfred that Ivan was trying even harder to avoid him nowadays; leaving as soon as class was finished, only being in his office when someone else was present as some sort of chaperone, barely looking Alfred in the eye when they talked.

Alfred supposed it was nervousness. After all, Ivan didn’t oppose to the few hours they spent together preparing chemistry classes; he even was overly courteous during that time. It was kind of cute, in a sense. However, all those actions only helped increase the amount of butterflies in Alfred’s own stomach. While he had only looked forward to Friday at first, he was nervous as hell by the time that day finally rolled around.

The boy had already made reservations at a fairly popular yet cheap enough restaurant, but what if Ivan didn’t like any of the items listed on the menu? What were they going to talk about, and would they be able to keep up conversation if it wasn’t about school? Dear God, _what the fuck was he going to wear?!_ A tuxedo, or would that be too fancy? But what if Ivan took offense if he showed up in just a t-shirt and jeans? Was there a golden middle ground he could manage to achieve by beating three dragons and rescuing a fair maiden? Also, would Ivan want him to pay for everything, or would he insist on sharing? What movies did he like? There were a fair number that interested Alfred that were screening right now, but what if Ivan didn’t like any of them and finally decided that Alfred wasn’t worth pursuing after all if they didn’t even share the same movie-interests?

Alfred couldn’t even _begin_ to imagine what must be going through Ivan’s mind while he considered all this. Ivan had never gone on a date before, after all. It was up to Alfred to make this day very special, for the both of them, but mostly for Ivan. He had already stolen his first kiss, and he’d be damned if he made their first date an awkward mumbo-jumbo as well!

That Friday evening after his classes had finished, Alfred took a long shower, literally shaking as he stood under the scorching beam. He had finally chosen to go casual-chic, putting on his neatest jeans, but with a nice white dress-shirt and his brown leather boots. He kind of looked like a cowboy, but hey, he rocked the cowboy-look. And his ass rocked this outfit even more so.

As he stood in front of the cracked bathroom mirror, trying but failing to slick back his hair, cursing his greased-up fingers, Kiku appeared in the doorway. He looked Alfred up and down, calculating.

“I know,” Alfred whined, even though Kiku hadn’t said anything. “It looks way over-the-top, right? Ugh, he’ll hate it!”

“No…” Kiku tilted his head to the side, narrowed his eyes. Then he flashed a small smile. “To be honest, you look great. Why are you so nervous? This isn’t your first…rodeo.” Oh, Kiku had lived through his fair share of Alfred’s dating history. He knew more than he would like to know.

“You think?” Alfred finally dropped his arms, to his surprise noting that his hair remained flat against his skull—or well, as flat as possible. It was still slightly wavy, but in all honestly, this looked way better than what he had expected when he started the assault on his golden locks.

Kiku nodded. “Yes, but if you don’t mind, you should stop fussing with everything or you’ll mess it up.” Kiku then ushered him out of the bathroom, making Alfred quirk his brow—Kiku wasn’t usually this assertive.

“Do you have everything? Wallet, charged your phone, key to the apartment?”

“Uh…” Alfred checked his pockets, finding all the items present. “Yep,” he said, meekly following as Kiku pulled him by the sleeve towards the front door.

“Good. Then go out there, and I don’t want to see you home before eleven.”

“Except if it goes so bad he doesn’t even want to finish the movie,” Alfred laughed nervously.

Kiku shook his head. “It won’t.” He gave Alfred a stern glare. “You have been talking about this man for far too long, if you get cold feet now I will explode. I mean it! So get out there, and have the time of your life.”

Alfred felt touched. Kiku was kind of like the brother he never had…oh wait, he _did_ have a brother. Never mind, then he was the sister—wait, no…ANYWAY, Alfred was touched, and even though Kiku had a strict no-hugging rule, he seriously considered breaking it at that moment. He didn’t, but still. It was the thought that counted.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, before turning around, and stepping out into the dim twilight of late fall, having to come back just once because he’d forgotten his jacket, and then making his way over to Ivan’s apartment with wildly beating heart and dancing stomach.


	16. Alcohol isn't the solution

Ivan was a nervous wreck. And he was absolutely certain he was getting ill and had to be hospitalised. His heart and body had been behaving far too wildly this last week, and he was bound to get a stroke or heart attack if they kept this up. Sweaty palms, painful throbbing, wobbling knees, overheating skin, a stomach that constantly felt like it was under attack. All because of _him_.

Alfred. The golden boy with the blue eyes and perfect smile. Alfred, who kept sending him both hopeful glances and suggestive winks every time he encountered him this week. Alfred, who was constantly invading his mind whenever he let his guard down, whether it was to smile at him or drop to his knees before him, spreading Ivan’s legs apart and…

This simply couldn’t be healthy. No sane person could be _this_ affected by the prospect of a date, could they? Not even…by the prospect of sex. Ivan knew he was some sort of anomaly, that there had to be something wrong with him. Part of him wished he had never noticed Alfred’s feelings, and that they’d gone on as colleagues and friends and his blood pressure would be normal. Another, far bigger part of him, just wanted to get this over and done with. He was tired of waiting, tired of all these nerves, this damned insecurity, tired of the way Alfred could make him feel with just a single look. He wanted to feel in control again, and if that meant going on a date with Alfred and…and having sex with him, then so be it. He was Ivan Braginsky, and he wasn’t going to let something as silly as hormones get the better of him and distract him from his work!

And he also wasn’t going to be a nervous wreck on the day of their date. Not at all. He certainly didn’t rush through his work all day until Munch thought he looked too feverish to continue and sent him home. He also didn’t take three consecutive showers, he didn’t spend two hours trying on clothes and almost having a breakdown because everything either made him look too fat or too stiff (pun not intended). Two out of three showers definitely weren’t cold ones. He did not spend time sitting on his bed and staring down at his hands, wondering how Alfred could’ve possibly gotten it into his head that _he_ , Ivan Braginsky, was _sexy_. He did not get annoyed with himself for being so goddamn nervous that he almost called the whole thing off. He didn’t do research on extra-curricular activities that involved beds and condoms between two male specimens, and he did not rush to the store because oh God what if either of them got pregnant from just looking at one another. He did not waste another hour frantically trying to hide said condoms, because oh God what if Alfred saw them and actually thought that Ivan wanted to have sex with him. And oh God, what if Alfred thought that Ivan _didn’t_ want to have sex with him, how on earth was he ever going to get rid of those constant distracting thoughts that were keeping him from sufficiently focusing on his work?

Ivan didn’t get it. He had never felt this nervous about anything in his whole life. Not when he went to professor Munch to ask if he could work as his assistant, not on any exam, oral or written, not for any presentation or speech or social interaction that left him feeling awkward. Not that one time in kindergarten when his big sister had put him in a dress and all the kids laughed at him (although that had been more humiliating than nerve-wrecking). Not when he had to read a small text he’d prepared himself at his grandfather’s funeral, and he had to look at his crying sister throughout the whole thing…

Ivan looked up at the ceiling of his apartment, still sitting on his bed in only his underwear, hand unconsciously traveling to his bandaged neck. What would his grandfather say if he were here? Would the man immediately disown him for thinking about having sex with a guy? Would he support him, give him advice, or simply tell him to man up and stop being so emotional about something as commonplace as sex?

Ivan groaned, putting his head in his hands. He was a hopeless case. And he was also probably the only man in the world who was thinking about calling his sister to ask her how on earth he was supposed to make love to a guy. His sister was a girl! And she didn’t need to know about Ivan’s sex life. Or lack thereof. Soon to be…less lacking.

A new wave of nerves pushed him up, sending him once more towards his closet. Over-thinking things wasn’t going to aide him. He simply had to let go, and relax. This was Alfred. Stupid, annoying, loveably endearing Alfred. The guy had practically already confessed his undying love to him. Not that Ivan wasn’t still wondering why on earth _he_ of all people had been chosen but…but he knew that Alfred probably wasn’t going to opt out after going through all this trouble just to get a date with him. He simply needed to trust that—he simply needed to sit back and see where the evening took them. Yes. That was his only job. _Stop thinking, and start following your heart._ Even though he felt like his heart was about ready to escape his chest, he would just have to trust that everything tonight would go well. Yes. He felt calmer already.

Which naturally meant that when he finally heard the bell, he almost passed out.

* * *

Okay. Ivan was a little…well, hotter than hot—he was actually wearing a pair of jeans for once that made his butt and plush thighs look amazingly squeezable, and he had managed to trade his usual oversized pulls for a neat long-sleeved shirt that accentuated the broad sturdiness of his chest, but that was not the point. The guy was apparently as nervous as Alfred had felt earlier. Perhaps even more so. In fact, he looked so nervous, that there seemed to be a dark cloud constantly looming over him. Instead of cute, squeaky Ivan, Alfred found an actual bear at his apartment, looking both determined to go through with this, and so on-edge that he would punch Alfred to pulp at one wrong move. In other words, he looked undeniably sexy.

“H-hey!” Alfred gasped breathlessly, hoping his excitement wasn’t all too obvious. “Ready to go? I made us reservations in about half an hour, but it’s still a little bit of a walk…” Oh God. He couldn’t stop ogling his stupidly handsome sort-of boyfriend slash soon-to-be boyfriend. Was it hot in here or was it just Ivan?

“ _Da_ ,” Ivan ground out, and the dangerous glow in those violet eyes darkened even more.

Alfred was momentarily speechless, mouth opening and closing like a fish’s, until he found the words again. “O-okay! Let’s go then!”

_Do not think about Ivan pounding you into the mattress, do NOT think about Ivan dragging you into a bathroom stall and taking you against the wall, DO NOT THINK ABOUT IVAN FUCKING YOU SENSELESS—_

He almost lost it when Ivan grabbed his hand, all but squeezing it to dust, the faint grinding of bones reaching his ears. With another needy shudder, he meekly followed behind the furiously marching Russian giant, grinning like the lovesick dope he was.

* * *

Alfred was peering at Ivan over the top of his menu card. Ivan had barely spoken a word to him since they’d left his apartment, but it was obviously still the nerves, not a sign of Ivan not wanting to be here or anything. His shoulders were hunched up defensively, his scarf was pulled almost too tightly around his neck, and his fingers were constantly drumming on the tabletop. The steady rhythm almost perfectly matched the anxious tapping of Alfred’s foot—they made quite the pair.

Alfred scraped his throat, finding it to be extremely dry. “Wanna drink some wine? I could go for some wine. Wine is…good.” _Interesting conversation, slicko_.

Ivan almost immediately lay down his own card, making Alfred flinch. “ _Da_. Wine is good. You like wine?” He went from not saying a word to almost biting Alfred’s head off; not a good sign.

“I-I mean, yeah, sure, wine’s good. Red or white?”

“Make it red. Waiter!” Ivan quickly flagged someone down, and ordered a bottle to be brought out immediately. Alfred swore he could hear his wallet cry a little—after all, _he_ had promised to pay for the meal.

After they had been provided with a bottle and two glasses, and Ivan had immediately downed his first, Alfred hesitantly spoke again. “Um…Ivan? You okay? You look a little—“ Ivan poured himself a second glass, filling it almost to the brim. “…nervous.”

“Nervous? Who, me?” Ivan barked out a single laugh. “ _Nyet, nyet_!” Then he spoke three entire sentences—or at least, Alfred _thought_ they were three sentences—in Russian, seemingly unaware of the switch he’d made.

Alfred owlishly stared at his companion. Oh boy. This was going to be a night to remember.

He watched as Ivan downed glass after glass, before, during and after their appetizers came. The bottle was almost empty by the time their mains arrived. All the while, the ashen blond continued to make sporadic switches between English and Russian, chattering on and on about things that either didn’t make sense or that Alfred didn’t even understand, becoming more and more vocal with every emptied glass.

“M-maybe you should slow down a bit…” Alfred chuckled weakly, cringing as he looked at his own glass (still the first). “We still have to make it to the movie…” He smiled carefully, hoping that Ivan would remember. He understood that Ivan was trying to give himself some liquid bravado, hell, he even sort of encouraged it (alcohol usually did wonders to the libido), but too much of the stuff would only result in tragedy.

Alfred’s breath hitched when Ivan suddenly leant over the table, eyes hooded, cheeks almost as red as the drink. “Do not be impatient, _lapushka_. We will do the fucking later.”

Alfred blinked, jaw dropping. Had he heard that right? Had Ivan actually said…and in _that_ voice… “S-say that again?” he asked, not believing his ears. He was almost ready to just bail right now if Ivan would only pick him up and throw him over a broad shoulder, carry him home, and then do exactly as he’d just said. He ogled Ivan even more as the man emptied yet another glass, pulling restlessly at his scarf. Oh boy, if they’d just—

* * *

Two hours later. The door opened to Ivan’s empty apartment. Two men stumbled inside, one singing loudly, the other supporting him.

“Ivan, watch where you’re—“

Ivan interrupted him in a deep baritone ballade. “ _Kaaaaaaaaaaaaalinka, kalinka, kalinka moya!_ ” He was swaying on his feet, stumbling left and right as Alfred tried to stop him from bumping into the wall.

“Okay big guy, bedroom’s over here—CAREFUL! Yeah, that’s it…”

Alfred wheezed, yelping when Ivan suddenly slung his arms around his neck, sending them both toppling over onto the bed. “Ivan!” he yelled, flustered, struggling weakly against the hold (but not too much).

Ivan was giggling now, before suddenly growing quiet, carefully rolling onto his back. “Where, where are…bed.” He let out another string of giggles. “ _Komnata krutitsya_!”

Alfred lay beside him, catching his breath, hands balled to fists in order to keep them from attacking that stupidly attractive man next to him. They hadn’t gone to the movies; Ivan was far too out of it to even try. Plus, they probably wouldn’t be let inside if Ivan continued to disrupt the peace by singing every Russian song he knew. Alfred really wished he spoke Russian at that moment; it would make this whole ordeal a lot easier.

Alfred had had to drag Ivan’s ass all the way over here after it became apparent that Ivan was drunk enough to try and take off his pants in public. It had been tough, to say the least. Not only because Ivan tried repeating that action at least three times along the way, coupled with the singing, but at one point he’d asked Alfred to stop for a little while, and when poor Alfred had dutifully asked him if he felt nauseous, worried as he was, Ivan had surprised him with a kiss.

And not just any kiss. Alfred had simply frozen when Ivan suddenly stuck his tongue inside, thoroughly invading Alfred’s mouth, giving him a kiss Alfred would never have expected to receive from the usually more reserved man. It had been heavenly, but also wrong. The best kiss Alfred had ever received, and he’d swooned and almost buckled under their combined weight, but Ivan was _so incredibly drunk_. It felt like Alfred was abusing Ivan, even though Ivan had been the one to initiate it. It simply felt wrong to continue this way. Thus, when Ivan then tried taking off his pants yet AGAIN, Alfred had stopped him instead of happily dragging the other into an alleyway, and continued bringing Ivan safely to his home. That was where they were now, and the taste and feel of Ivan’s tongue was still burning Alfred’s mouth, and Ivan was fucking hopeless.

After calming down enough, and steeling himself, Alfred sat up. He breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth. “Okay Ivan, I’m gonna help you put on your pyjamas, you okay with that?” The American really needed Ivan to behave for a moment. Alfred wasn’t sure he would be able to keep it in his pants if Ivan kept being this handsy. It was agonising; being so close to what he wanted, yet so far away. As if the devil was holding Ivan’s sensual body just within his reach, but if he were to take it, that would mean selling his poor innocent soul.

Ivan didn’t say anything, and for one moment Alfred thought the guy had fallen asleep, but then he raised his arms. Alfred nodded, swallowed. Making a mental click, he began undressing Ivan, literally this time, not just mentally, something he’d dreamt of doing for the longest of times.

_Don’t think about how cute he looks right now._

His hands trembled as he unbuttoned the once neat shirt, now slightly crumpled and with a small red stain of wine.

_Don’t look at the soft platinum chest hair._

He quickly pulled a clean t-shirt over Ivan’s head before he could be tempted to place his hands on that pale chest, fondle and feel him up.

_Do NOT think about sex while taking off his pants. DO NOT. Think about. Sex._

He simply had to look away, not allowing his hands to linger, almost combusting when Ivan let out a dreamy sigh.

“Better,” Ivan mumbled, as if he meant the jeans had been too tight. As if he was saying—

Alfred made the mistake of letting his gaze snap back. The alcohol hadn’t just blurred Ivan’s perception and speech, made him more open and throw away all reservations. It had also made him hard. Well, half-mast, as the bulge wasn’t _that_ noticeable, but enough. Enough to drive Alfred absolutely crazy. Enough to have him inwardly scream in agony, his own crotch sweltering as he kept looking down, intently staring at Ivan’s lightly spread legs, milky white thighs forming a stark contrast to the black briefs he was wearing, and then the bump. It would be so easy to just touch him, to just give in to the all-consuming fire.

Alfred’s voice sounded alien and so unlike his own as he managed to croak out the words. “I-I should be going…”

He made the second mistake of that evening; looking away from Ivan’s crotch, and into his eyes. Those _eyes_. They were smouldering, tempting, beckoning. Ivan gave a small frown and pout, as if not fully understanding why Alfred had to leave, as if he wasn’t even aware of the tent he was pitching, or maybe _too_ aware. He lifted a finger, beckoning for Alfred to come closer, lips moving like he wanted to say something.

Alfred carefully leant in, leant in further when Ivan repeated the movement, then let out a small groan as he was suddenly pulled on top. Ivan still had a surprising amount of strength in his arms for someone this utterly smashed.

“Less make out,” Ivan whispered into his ear, voice slurred. His hands clumsily tried to latch onto Alfred’s belt as he placed a sloppy wet kiss to the boy’s temple, and Alfred couldn’t help but moan. His mouth was forming a thin line, strained from the effort of grinding his teeth together, necessary in order not to respond to such a scandalous request. It took all of his willpower to push himself up on hands and knees, rolling off of Ivan.

“I really can’t,” he whined, and the temptation to palm himself through his pants became almost irresistible. He was so fucking hard, and he wanted to get laid so bad, but it was _wrong_. Ivan would probably never forgive him if he abused the situation, that much he was sure off. Besides, he didn’t want Ivan’s first time to be a black hole in his memory. They should wait.

He should really go.

“I promise, some other time,” he sighed, standing up and walking to the door of Ivan’s bedroom. He couldn’t look back, he could NOT look back—

“Alfred?”

He looked back.

Ivan sent him an adorable smile, flushed and dazzling and dammit his gaze once again snapped down why couldn’t he just follow his own advice.

“Sweet dreams, _lapushka_.”

Alfred felt goose bumps travel down his skin as he gasped again, then nodded, quickly sprinting out. He slammed the door shut and leant against it, heart hammering. Ivan Braginsky was going to be the death of him. He had no idea, no freakin’ idea…

Alfred looked down, legs uncomfortably squeezing together. He had to do something about this first. There was no way he was going to make it all the way back to his own dorm room. Besides…what if Ivan needed him? What if he got sick overnight, and needed someone to take care of him?

Ivan’s golden boy made a life-changing decision. Well, he wouldn’t know it was life-changing just yet, but it was.

He _did_ keep his promise of not going back into Ivan’s bedroom, telling himself he’d only do so if he were to hear Ivan throw up or fall out of bed or do something else that needed his assistance.

But there was nothing wrong in claiming Ivan’s couch for the night, was there? And it also wasn’t forbidden to jerk off on said couch, right? Just the same as it wasn’t illegal to walk through the room looking for pictures of Ivan to make said action easier, smelling his clothes like a non-creep, using Ivan’s tissues to get rid of the evidence of his escapades, and finally using his bathroom as a refuge as Alfred splashed some cold water into his face and looked into the mirror, wondering what Ivan would say if he were to know, the thought of which just got him hard again.

He was a mess. A quietly moaning, cursing and twitching mess, but he hadn’t laid a single hand on Ivan. He could sleep with a sound mind. On Ivan’s couch. Under his blanket. Wearing only a pair of boxers. Because that wasn’t forbidden either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kalinka is a Russian folk song with extremely catchy lyrics, of which many versions and remixes exist.
> 
> “Komnata krutitsya” means “the room is spinning”, or at least is does according to google translate, which is hopefully right (correct me if I’m wrong).
> 
> “Lapushka” means as much as “darling”.


	17. Craving that mineral

Everything was peaceful and quiet in Ivan’s apartment. Ivan himself was still knock-out, snoozing away in his bed. The blankets were twisted around his body, forming a perfectly comfortable cocoon in which he could sleep off last night. Alfred was asleep as well, lying in a jumble of limbs on the couch. He was only wearing a pair of boxers and used a towel he’d found as a makeshift blanket. His arms were making all kinds of weird angles, and drool was leaking from his mouth onto the pillow. They made quite the pair, both with messy bed hair, shifting eyelids indicating a dream, and soft snores emanating from either mountain of body mass.

Alfred didn’t wake up from the soft ticking of the grandfather clock standing in the corner of the living room. He didn’t wake up by the upstairs neighbours going through their morning routine, both arguing, one in English and the other in French. Neither the traffic outside nor the sound of a car pulling up interrupted his heavy snoring and deep dreams. Not even the sound of a key being turned over inside a lock. The clicking of heels.

What _did_ manage to snap him out of his slumber, was a high-pitched feminine scream, like the shriek of an angry banshee.

“BURGLAR! There is a burglar!”

Alfred immediately sat up, wildly blinking, gaze unfocused as his glasses lay somewhere on the ground. He could see two figures before him, one standing at the edge of his peripheral sphere, the other fleeing the room before running back towards him. The last bits of sleep immediately left him when a knife was suddenly held to his throat. The towel fell down to reveal his unclothed chest, and he gulped as he tried looking the person in the eye.

“Any last words, thieving scum?” she hissed, face moving close enough for Alfred to make out a dangerously venomous leer; her intent was clear.

“Uh…good morning?” he tried, cold sweat traveling down his neck as she growled. He let out a small peep of fear when she lifted the knife, ready to bring it down like a sword, before a door slammed open.

“ _Sestra, stoj!_ ”

* * *

Alfred sat in Ivan’s cramped kitchen, hands still trembling a little as they were clasped around a warm mug of hot cocoa. He had his clothes back on, and his neck had managed to escape unscathed. Natalia, the woman whom had tried to send him back to his maker, was sitting on a couch in the living room, but he could feel her cold blue eyes glaring daggers at him even through the wall. Ivan was currently with her, trying to reassure his little sister of Alfred’s intent, all the while nurturing his growing headache.

The other person happened to be Ivan’s older sister, Yekaterina. The two of them had apparently planned on making a surprise visit to their beloved brother, and hadn’t expected a guest to already be there once they arrived.

“Vanya never has guests over,” the gentle woman told Alfred excitedly, making tea for everyone save the sunny blond. “I apologise again for my sister’s behaviour, she only wanted to protect him.”

“Not a problem,” Alfred said, laughing shakily. “I probably looked suspicious, since you didn’t expect me and all.” He blushed when she sent her a small smile, both reassuring and knowing. “I promise I would’ve worn my pyjama’s if I’d remembered to bring them,” he insisted, not wanting everyone to think he was a pervert. He was incredibly happy that he’d remembered to clean up after himself after last night’s escapades. “Really, I don’t—“

“Not a problem,” Yekaterina laughed, throwing his own words back at him. She placed a hand on Alfred’s shoulder, giving a light squeeze. “You don’t seem like anyone untrustworthy. Really, I am happy!”

Alfred chuckled a bit awkwardly. “So you just know? You don’t think I have any bad intentions?”

Her eyes shimmered. “Call it a sister’s intuition.” She walked away when the kettle whistled. “Besides, Vanya had already told me a little about you, so it was easy for me to make the connection between his stories and your sudden appearance. Sister was just a little more surprised than I.”

“Oh?” Alfred perked up. “Ivan’s been talking about me?” He felt his lips twitch up into a happy grin, pausing for a moment to listen to the soft laughter emanating from the room next door. It was a rare occasion, hearing Ivan laugh that easily; he obviously had a good bond with his sisters.

She nodded, pouring the hot water into three cups. “Of course he has. I call him almost every week, and these last few calls he always mentioned his new assistant.” She looked over her shoulder. “Friend.” Eyes shot down, before slowly roaming back up to Alfred’s. “More than a friend?”

Alfred’s cheeks immediately lit up like the Fourth of July. “I-is it that obvious?” he asked, chuckling when he saw her smile. Good; at least he was accepted by Ivan’s older sister. It was always easier when your boyfriend’s—or soon-to-be boyfriend’s—family liked you.

“Well, for one, you were sleeping on my brothers couch wearing only a pair of boxer shorts,” she said, letting out a small giggle. “It was more a hunch, but you just confirmed it. I approve; Vanya could use some fun to distract him from his work.” She looked at the door, sudden worry flashing across her soft features. “He works too hard. Doesn’t have any time left for friends. It is only because I insist on calling and visiting that he makes time for us. Not that he dislikes us—“ She put some sugar into her cup, before loading everything onto a tray. “He is simply in love with his job.” She smiled down at the boy.

Alfred stared at her, a little stunned at first, before shooting up when she tried to push the door open with her hip. “Wait, lemme help you with that,” he said, taking the tray from her and easily opening the door with his free hand.

“Thank you,” she said happily, grabbing Alfred’s mug of cocoa and the kettle, ready to re-join her siblings in the living room.

Alfred steeled himself before stepping in, hoping he wouldn’t almost be murdered a second time. Ivan and Natalia were sitting on the couch he’d used as a bed the night before, Natalia the epitome of elegance with her blue dress and long crossed legs, Ivan looking more like a hobo as he sat hunched under a blanket, eyes bloodshot. This hangover must really be killing him, but still he made time for his sisters.

The moment Natalia became aware of Alfred’s presence, she turned to glare at him. Despite the murderous intent now lacking from her gaze, she still seemed highly suspicious of Alfred’s presence. Winning her over would be a lot tougher than winning over Yekaterina.

“Um, here’s some tea,” Alfred said, putting on his best toothpaste-commercial smile.

Natalia narrowed her eyes, as if she suspected the tea to be poisoned, but Ivan looked grateful, expression lighting up once it settled on his friend. More than a friend. Alfred wondered how much of last night the guy truly remembered. He hoped Ivan would remember how much of a gentleman he’d been, not even thinking about laying a single finger on a drunk person.

“Vanya, I brought some beet kvass and pennik for you. I put them in the fridge.” She put down Alfred’s mug and the kettle on a small table, picking a seat for herself.

Ivan nodded, did so again when Alfred handed him some camomile tea. “ _Da. Spasibo, sestra._ ”

Alfred flinched a little when Natalia snatched up her own cup, but he was relieved when she took a sip instead of pouring the hot liquid all over his…special area. Because for a moment, he was one hundred percent certain that had been her plan.

“I made the kvass with my own hands.” _Her own blood, more like,_ Alfred added mentally. “I hope you feel better soon,” Natalia said to her brother, expression switching from venomous to almost sugary sweet.

Yekaterina giggled again. “It is rare to see you this hungover, Vanya.”

Ivan grumbled a little, blowing cool air at his tea. “Was a mistake. I was drinking wine and not paying attention.”

Natalia caressed his messy locks, worry written all over her fine features. “You should be careful, brother. Bad things can happen to people who get drunk.”

“Yeah,” Alfred chuckled. “Good thing I was there to bring you home, huh?”

Natalia sent him a glare; she obviously thought it wasn’t nearly as good a thing as Alfred made it out to be. As if Alfred was some creepy pervert, as if it was his fault Ivan had gotten that wasted! If he’d known what would happen, Alfred would have opted for non-alcoholic beverages so that they could have continued their date like he’d planned. On the other hand, drunk Ivan had definitely been a sight to behold, and he didn’t know whether he would’ve ended up staying the night had Ivan been sober. Perhaps it had been a blessing in disguise after all.

They talked about the regular stuff at first; Alfred’s studies, Ivan’s job, and apparently Natalia was going to get married to some Lithuanian guy in the near future. Ivan was even less vocal than usual, what with the hangover and all, but when that last subject arose he tensed up, the temperature in the room dropping several degrees, making Alfred shiver.

“Be sure to invite me over for a little man-to-man talk before the wedding,” he said to his younger sister, who obediently nodded her head, eyes glimmering with admiration. Alfred made a mental note: Ivan was protective of his sisters. Which he could understand; he liked to know the person his brother was dating as well. Keep them in check. And preferably with enough room for Jesus between the two. No one was good enough for his baby brother (even though the rule on which twin was supposedly the older one had never been that clear).

After that they had a late lunch together, the two sisters working in the kitchen. Alfred had proposed to help too but was sent away since he was their guest, and Ivan was forbidden to enter the kitchen as long as he still had that headache.

Left alone with his crush once again, the atmosphere grew a little more tense at first. Alfred had relaxed considerably during the conversation with Ivan’s sisters (especially the older of the two), but now that he was face-to-face with the reason he even was here today, he couldn’t help but remember last night.

Alfred twiddled his thumbs, looking everywhere but at Ivan. He was just about to propose he’d put on some music, when the other finally spoke, catching him off-guard.

“I apologise for my sisters. I did not expect them to come over this weekend.” Ivan leant back in his seat, pulling the blanket off his shoulders so his hands could straighten it over his lap. He hadn’t put on his beloved scarf today, and the bandages around his neck shone white and clear.

“No problem at all,” Alfred brought out, just a moment too late. “They’re really nice. And it’s me who should say sorry, for crashing on your couch without asking first.”

Ivan gave a small chuckle. “It is my fault for getting that drunk yesterday, and then passing out before I had the chance to invite you over. It was inconsiderate of me, so I apologise.”

Alfred’s heart sped up. Had Ivan planned on inviting him over for the night? Were they already making that much progress? Was it finally the right time to pop the question (and Ivan’s cherry)?

Ivan scratched idlily at his neck, seemingly lost in thought, perhaps trying to remember exactly what had happened yesterday evening. Deeming that too dangerous for now (Alfred didn’t exactly want him to realise how far they’d almost gone), Alfred quickly made to change the subject.

“What are those bandages around your neck for?”

Bad choice; Ivan’s hand immediately snapped down, as if he’d burnt his fingers.

Alfred panicked; “I-I was just asking! Thought you had an accident or something. You don’t need to explain if you don’t want to!”

Ivan looked him in the eye, held his gaze. From the kitchen, they could hear Yekaterina hum a song, and the soft musical laughter of the youngest sister. Then, the Russian nodded curtly, and beckoned for his companion to move closer. Alfred immediately did so, eyes wide and curious as he moved in, sitting down next to the other, keeping just enough distance to be respectable, but coming close enough to see.

Ivan spoke as he worked on unwinding the bandages, hands moving carefully yet steadily, as if they were already overly familiar with this process. “It was…sort of an accident. But really, it was my own fault. I had gotten a chemistry kit from my grandfather, for my birthday. I was a little too enthusiastic back then, not careful enough.”

Alfred held his breath when Ivan finished unwrapping his neck. Clear red markings zigzagged all over his neck.

Chemical burn.

“That must’ve hurt like hell,” he whispered, wanting to touch, but feeling scared all the same.

Ivan let out a weak chuckle. “That is an understatement. I was lucky my grandfather was around, and that he had fast reflexes. He managed to reduce the damage as much as possible, but it still left a scar. He was…furious.” Ivan’s eyes darkened as he recalled that day from his childhood. “He did not want me to continue my hobby, even though he had been the one to make me this passionate about it in the first place. I…I couldn’t give up all those years…” He looked down. “I disobeyed my grandfather for the first time in my entire life. I secretly continued my experiments behind his back, but this time much more careful. _Much_ more careful.”

He finally noticed Alfred’s twitching hands. Eyes shooting up to lock with Alfred’s once more, he gently took hold of one of his hands. Alfred gasped, hand shaking as it was delicately placed upon the ruined skin. It felt rugged and worn out, unlike the smooth silk of his lips, the plush curves of his cheek. For the first time, Alfred was touching at Ivan, looking at Ivan, without any intent on taking it even the least bit further than just that. He felt mesmerised, watching Ivan swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down beneath his fingertips, as he followed the scar to its edges.

“Ivan, I… It must’ve been hard for you to continue doing something that…that hurt you…”

Ivan’s eyes flashed. “Alfred,” he said softly, placing his hand on top of the other’s. “That accident terrified me, but I have always been stubborn. I did not want my own mistakes to keep me from doing what I love. I did not want my life to be ruined by fear. I am going to continue doing what I love. There have been some…how do you say it…bumps in the road. My granfather’s disapproval was at times difficult to cope with, especially when he finally passed away. But accidents happen; I know that, and I am sure he knew too. All we can do is learn from them, and become better human beings.”

Alfred inched closer, feeling a fire burning in his heart. Dear God, he felt so…proud. So fucking proud of the man sitting here before him, confessing something he probably didn’t tell to just about anyone, but he was telling all this now, to Alfred. God, he loved…

Love?

“Lunch is ready!” came Yekaterina’s voice, and Alfred’s hand snapped away, quickly recoiling. Ivan looked at him for a moment longer, before giving a smile, and working on re-applying the bandages. Had this happened at the beginning of the semester, Alfred knew for a fact that he wouldn’t even be allowed to look at Ivan’s bare neck. They really had made a lot of progress.

“I-I’ll go help your sisters with the table,” Alfred spluttered, rising. Yet before he could escape, a hand captured his wrist, yanked him down, and before he knew it, he felt a soft pair of lips caress his cheek.

“Thank you for listening, Alfred.”

Alfred couldn’t (and didn’t want to) explain his permanently crimson cheeks once he entered the kitchen, even though he could feel Yekaterina’s knowing gaze fixed upon his back.

* * *

“Sorry again for dropping by unnoticed, but I had fun! It was nice meeting you, Alfred.”

Alfred made a short bow, drawing giggles from the girl. “Pleasure was all mine, ma’am.”

Natalia scoffed, but didn’t harass him any further. The two boys waved them out as they watched Ivan’s sisters disappear into the elevator, only stopping after the doors had closed. And then they were alone again.

After a short pause, Alfred turned towards Ivan. “Listen, thanks a lot for letting me stay. I should probably head home now; I’ve already overstayed my welc—“

“Actually,” Ivan interrupted him, and Alfred immediately snapped his mouth shut. Ivan seemed a lot less nervous around him today than he had been the day before, even giving him a warm smile as he spoke to him now. Must’ve been the influence of his sisters, or the hangover leaving him doozy.

“I was thinking…it is Saturday evening. And…we never got to finish that date I promised you.”

Alfred’s heart gave a single loud ba-dump, and he was absolutely sure Ivan must have heard it.

“There was a…movie? And I suppose, I have yet to think about what to do for dinner… I will pay of course, is only fair.” He grew a little sheepish, averting his eyes. “After all that wine I drank yesterday.”

Alfred quickly grabbed his hands, almost squeezing them to smithereens. “Ivan, I would _love_ to give that date another go. Only, let’s keep the alcohol to a minimum tonight.”

Alfred was certain the butterflies were mutual as Ivan gave him a shy and apologetic smile in return.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Sestra” is Russian for sister, “stoj” means stop, and “spasibo” means thank you.
> 
> Kvass is a sort of non-alcoholic beer, commonly made from rye bread. They can be flavoured with fruits, or in this case, beets.
> 
> Pennik is an Ukrainian apricot pie.


	18. The Catalyst

Alfred was feeling giddy all over as he kept sending admiring gazes over the top of his menu card. Ivan’s plan to continue last night’s date today had proved to be ideal. Gone were all the nerves that had plagued him the day before, instead replaced by high levels of excitement. The same seemed to go for his companion; Ivan didn’t tremble half as much as he did last time they tried their hand at this “date” thing, and his expression was much calmer. He had assured Alfred that the headache was gone as well, so here they were. The restaurant they’d chosen was a cute little Chinese thing in the neighbourhood of the theatre they were going to watch a movie at afterwards. No alcohol tonight, only tea and soda.

“So what are you gonna…” Alfred nearly bit his tongue when their legs accidentally stroked together. His eyes flashed towards Ivan’s, starting to bulge when they noticed the tinge of pink on the Russian’s pale cheeks. While the action had probably been just a chance event, the both of them were hyperaware that it had happened.

Alfred swallowed, and repeated his question as he hesitantly moved his knee to rest adjacent to Ivan’s, settling his weight against the other. “So, have you decided what you’d like to eat yet? We could get starters and mains if you’re hungry enough.”

Ivan only tensed up a little, but didn’t move away. “ _Da_ …I would like to have some dumplings, I think.”

Alfred smiled even brighter, having his bold flirtation not immediately being pushed away, and put down his card. “Okay, I’ll join! As for mains…” He rattled off their options, mind constantly wandering back to what went on underneath the table.

After placing their order, the topic of conversation became chemistry, as per usual. It was actually amazing that Alfred had managed to pry Ivan away from his work for two days in a row, which only went to show just how much Ivan had accepted him into his daily life.

“So how did you come to work for Munchkin—“ Glare. “— _professor Munch_ , anyway?” Alfred asked, genuinely interested.

Ivan was busy folding his napkin into intricate forms. “Well, I was not meant to work with him, at first.” His brow crinkled in that adorable little concentrated frown that Alfred had come to love. “I was supposed to start working at the university I have studied at, but my professor was asked last-minute to go teach a course abroad for a year.”

“Wow.” Alfred gave a short whistle. “Must’ve been scary, suddenly having someone drop the bomb on you like that.”

Ivan didn’t disagree with him there, readjusting his chopsticks (both were eager to try them out instead of simply using knife and fork). “Luckily, since I was an ace student, my professor put in an extra effort to get me a job elsewhere. Professor Munch was his colleague and childhood friend, you see.” He chuckled. “I suppose I was indeed very lucky. Had they not met as children, I wouldn’t have been able to pursue my dream. It would have been too difficult to let me journey abroad alongside my professor, so this truly came as a…a gift from heaven.”

Ivan looked up to smile at Alfred, whom immediately felt his heart rattle to a complete stop. It wasn’t fair; Ivan wasn’t allowed to send him such cute gazes after talking about such a serious and important topic. Alfred admittedly stared back a little too long, completely flabbergasted, until Ivan’s expression shifted. His smile faded ever so slightly, both becoming aware of the electric current pulsating between their bodies. Their knees were still touching. They _had_ kissed before, so no reason not to do it again right now, was there?

Just as Alfred licked his lips, eyes starting to droop a little, a waiter appeared at his side. “Your meals, sirs!”

Alfred fell straight out of his chair after that, leaving Ivan to snicker into his scarf, hands balled to fists on top of his knees as he tried to keep himself from reaching out for a touch.

* * *

The lingering sensation of an almost palpable physical attraction didn’t leave again after that. It was durable for as long as dinner lasted, for they had idle chitchat and delicious roasted duck to busy themselves with. The very same jabbering brought them outside and in line for the ticket counter, afterwards leading them to the desired auditorium to watch a new sci-fi flick. While people usually went to watch rom-coms when going on dates, neither Ivan or Alfred had a particular preference for the genre. Hence, sci-fi it was.

The real trouble started just after the light had been dimmed, both Alfred and Ivan having to shut up as the commercials started up. The room was dark, they were sitting right next to each other, and no one could see them for they were seated somewhere at the top.

And no one could see them.

Alfred barely paid attention to the commercials, suddenly hyperaware of Ivan’s presence right beside him. He quickly crossed both arms and legs, nails digging deep into his flesh as he tried to keep them from reaching out. Or maybe he should—was this the perfect moment for holding hands or fake-yawning and slinging his arm over an unsuspecting shoulder? Then again, he wasn’t quite sure if he could contain himself after that, if one little touch would be enough to satisfy him.

Alfred let his gaze wander from the moving pictures to the man seated right next to him. He could clearly see Ivan’s expression at this distance, the bright light from the screen reflecting off of his features. Alfred shuddered when he found Ivan to be sending secretive glances _his_ way as well, both jumping when their eyes met for just one moment.

Alfred was plagued by the most impure thoughts. Ivan had allowed him to sleep on the couch last night, perhaps this evening he would finally see the guy’s bed from a closer angle? He had already felt the strength coursing through those long limbs when Ivan had lifted him up to kiss him, what else were they capable of?

The movie had only barely begun, and already Alfred was fed-up with it. He couldn’t concentrate on some stupid action plot, not with the Russian hottie of his dreams at his side! Especially not when knowing they might both be thinking about the same thing…

After a while of keeping himself in check, Alfred finally admitted how ridiculous the situation was. He wasn’t making things any easier on himself by focusing on anything BUT the reason they were at the movie theatre in the first place. On that thought, he finally relented, reaching out to stuff himself with popcorn (extra-large with lots of butter, naturally). Only to meet up with another hand as soon as he did so.

Alfred froze, a wave of anxiety traveling from his fingertips all the way down to his toes. He looked to the side once again, finding Ivan in an equally shocked state. They couldn’t keep sitting here like this, not admitting that anything had happened, even though their hands were _still touching_. He had to do something. And then before he could, Ivan beat him to it.

Alfred felt himself go almost queasy when the lightest brush of fingers was the only warning to precede a cold hand carefully wrapping itself around his. Despite Ivan being the one with less experience here, he had decided to take charge. Maybe he was getting impatient, or maybe Alfred’s foolishness was rubbing off on him. Or maybe…he desired Alfred just as much as Alfred did him.

The blond felt his heart thunder at ten miles an hour within his chest, small electric shockwaves tingling from his hand. Ivan’s was large enough to cover his own, and after a small squeeze, both shy and encouraging, he slowly spread his fingers to allow Ivan to weave his through them, which he immediately did. Alfred closed them again, keeping a firm grasp on Ivan’s digits, feeling like he’d never let go again after this.

While his actions had been bold, one look at Ivan’s face confirmed that he was still nervous as fuck, his cheeks dark and nose hidden within his scarf. Still, he bravely looked back at Alfred, conveying that it was okay, that he trusted his companion. That he was all right with taking the next step, as long as Alfred was there to help and guide him.

Alfred swallowed, before flashing a dazzling smile. He squeezed Ivan’s hand to reassure him that he wasn’t going to run away. His own hand felt a little too hot and sweaty for anyone to want to touch it, but Ivan didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t seem to mind at all.

All went well in the following hour, the two boys sitting there happy as a clam with big giddy smiles upon their faces, hand in hand, buzzing with excitement. This lasted until the inevitable happened: a love scene within the movie.

The relaxed contact they’d maintained throughout most part of the movie immediately tensed up. Alfred usually didn’t care that much for these kinds of passionate scenes, but now his eyes were glued to the screen. Not that he was getting turned-on by watching the two characters fuck like rabbits or anything, but well… It was hard not imagining himself doing something of the likes with Ivan, especially since they were sitting there locked together at the hand.

“How much longer?” Ivan asked quietly, making Alfred jump at the sudden noise. At first he thought Ivan was talking about this scene in particular, but then again, perhaps he meant…the movie.

Alfred slowly allowed himself to look at Ivan. He found two almost luminescent purple eyes staring right back. He didn’t seem as embarrassed by the scene as Alfred would have thought him to be—seeing as the guy was still unexperienced on this subject—, instead having only eyes for him. Alfred remembered the way he had behaved the night before, openly asking for it once he had injected enough liquid bravado into his system. Maybe it had been Ivan’s plan all along to take it further last night. Maybe he’d been sincere in his requests, only having them empowered that much more by the alcohol. Maybe Ivan had asked him to continue their date tonight because if they were to delay it any longer, he would lose it.

“W-we could just, sneak out,” Alfred squawked, blush rising to his cheeks. He could feel his heartbeat thumping in his ears when Ivan frowned in contemplation, before giving a small nod. His cold hand felt scalding in Alfred’s own. He’d never expected it to be Ivan, to ask for it first.

A couple of moments later, and the two were stumbling through the night, rushing home as fast as their legs could carry them. Ivan was still holding Alfred’s hand, alternating between pulling Alfred along and being pulled along himself as they wove through the occasional groups of friends going out for a drink.

This was it. It was really happening. All those months of dreaming about doing it with Ivan, fantasising and longing for, could not have prepared him for the nerves he felt now. His hands felt hotter than a thousand suns, his knees were weak, and his heart would NOT slow down. He was far from a virgin, but it still felt like he was going to do it for the first time ever. Maybe he was just feeling what Ivan felt, must be feeling right now.

“Y-you sure about this?” Alfred asked again, not wanting Ivan to rush into things simply because he wasn’t quite sure how these things worked.

Ivan stopped, turned around. Alfred’s breath hitched when he saw pure desire ooze from his expression.

“Alfred, I would not be taking you back home if I weren’t. I have never done this before, _da_ , it is true. Which is why I can assure you, this would not be happening if I was less than absolutely sure about it.”

It was almost too good to be true, music to his ears. Alfred felt his grin grow so wide his face could barely contain it. “I was just checking, because, you know…” He felt more than a little sheepish underneath all the excitement. “You’re important to me and stuff…”

Ivan’s gaze grew slightly more tender, eyes hooded as he came to stand right before the other. “You have to stop saying things like that,” the ashen blond murmured, bringing their faces closer, nose brushing along Alfred’s. “You always manage to mess up my concentration.”

“S-sorry?” Alfred brought out, skin tingling where Ivan’s breath caressed it. “But that’s also a good thing, since you’re such a workaholic—“

He nearly forgot his own name when Ivan’s lips brushed over his own, soft and warm and delicious. Where did Ivan suddenly get all these moves from?

“It is. For some parts. But not when I am trying to take you home. If we do not hurry, I might succumb to nerves again. And I do _not_ want all that research to be wasted.” And with the tiniest of pecks to his lips, Ivan pulled away and was on the move again, leaving Alfred to stand there beneath a street light, blinking furiously for a moment.

Once those words got through to him though, all the blood started rushing down. Alfred quickly pursued his date, latching onto his arm. “Wait a minute! So, you mean, you’ve actually looked stuff up for—“

“Do not make me repeat it,” Ivan mumbled, tell-tale blush betraying how embarrassing that had been to admit. Still, it did nothing to make Alfred less aroused, and he was that much more ready to get things going tonight.

“I’ll make sure it won’t go to waste!” he promised, fire in his eyes.

Ivan sent him a short glance, looking away again almost immediately as the blush increased. Alfred grinned, leaning in to his ear.

“And since it’s Saturday evening we can take our sweet time, and I’ll do everything I can to make you feel amazing, and—“

Ivan suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him back until he hit a wall, and cut him off with a kiss unlike any he’d ever given or received. Alfred’s body shook as Ivan forced his tongue inside, looming over him, probably urged on by the moment. Inexperienced as Ivan may be, he was clearly taking extra care to pay attention to his partner’s needs when kissing. He doubted Ivan would have been able to kiss him like that had he not sweettalked the guy, or had Ivan not come this…prepared.

Their tongues slid together easily, blending into one ball of nerves and muscle, making it impossible to tell where one began and the other ended. Alfred continued trembling due to the sheer force with which Ivan had thrown himself onto him, carnal want pulsing through his veins with each sharp breath intake. With every heartbeat he could hear Ivan’s name being repeated inside and around him, wanting more, ever more.

As Ivan assaulted his mouth, the sunny blond pushed his lower body up, rubbing their groins together. Ivan let out a low groan; he was getting hard too. This last action finally urged Ivan to break the kiss, the taller panting as the smaller licked saliva from his glistening reddened lips.

“W-we should get inside,” Ivan said hoarsely, for the first time looking at Alfred with unmasked thirst, no longer feeling awkward or confused about the other’s intentions.

“We’ll get inside if you stop being so goddamn sexy,” Alfred answered lowly, heat pooling to his gut when he saw Ivan shudder in response.

The remainder of the way home was covered by sprinting, neither wanting to lose any more time. Ivan fumbled with the keys to the building, letting out a small shriek and almost dropping them when Alfred suddenly hugged him from behind, barely stopping himself from humping Ivan’s leg. He was _that_ horny.

“Hurry up,” he whined as Ivan finally let them inside, and into the elevator. There it was Ivan once again taking the upper hand, lifting Alfred up against the wall to assault his mouth with more kisses while the carriage brought them up to the desired floor. The cramped space felt too hot, and Alfred’s head was spinning by the time they got out. While Ivan opened the door to his apartment, Alfred quickly checked his pocket. Good—the condom he’d put in there was still present, and still good to go. As ready as he was to give body and soul to Ivan, he’d rather do so with the necessary protection.

As soon as they were both inside and Ivan had locked the door behind him, Alfred once more attacked the Russian for another passionate kiss. Ivan was pressed against the door, groaning a little when the handle dug into his lower back. Never redirecting his attention from Ivan’s mouth, Alfred took notice of the sound and began pulling him towards the bedroom.

As their mouths moved wantonly against each other, slick sounds filling the atmosphere, Alfred’s hands worked on ridding Ivan of his jacket and (more carefully) of his scarf. The other took the cue and began helping, moving his arms back to let the pieces of clothing slip off his shoulders. He didn’t start working on Alfred’s clothes, clearly trusting Alfred to guide them along. The sunny blond was fine by that; undressing your partner was the most exciting part of the experience, after all, and as long as Ivan allowed himself to be undressed, everything was peachy as far as Alfred’s was concerned.

Alfred reluctantly broke away for a moment to lift his own shirt over his head, carelessly throwing it to the side. He began working on his pants after that, fumbling with the belt, only slowing down when he felt eyes intently staring at his body. Ivan was clearly still nervous, but even if he’d wanted to, there was no way he could have moved his gaze away from Alfred’s golden skin, the muscles in his arms, the small patch of blond hair on his chest. Alfred felt goose bumps set his skin on fire under that scrutinising gaze, and he quickly dropped his pants before stepping forward.

“You undress too,” he mumbled, starting to unbutton Ivan’s shirt. Ivan continued to watch Alfred for a long, pregnant moment, before slowly moving his hands down to work on his own pants. Alfred’s blood pressure was elevated to the max at Ivan’s willingness, and he was pretty sure he could die a happy man right now.

As soon as Ivan’s clothes came off, Alfred found himself staring. And staring so more. He must have looked absolutely comical, but Ivan’s laugh was a little too sheepish.

“I-is something wrong?” he asked, unconsciously covering his abdomen.

Alfred shook his head. Wrong? Far from it. All these months, he could only guess at what was underneath those oversized pullovers, long t-shirts, white lab coats. Ivan had the body of an Adonis; tall and pale, broad shoulders and sturdy chest, with some plush around the stomach which made him look less intimidating and more cute, especially coupled with the embarrassed look in those beautiful eyes.

“You’re gorgeous,” Alfred whispered, overcome with awe. Ivan smiled, still unsure, but willing to believe him. They had come this far; it was stupid to start distrusting Alfred now.

The excited American carefully reached out, placing his hand on Ivan’s torso. Ivan suppressed a shudder, keeping a close watch over the other. Alfred gave a small squeeze to Ivan’s chest, delighted to find it as sturdy as it looked. He stepped in and let his other hand join, circling Ivan’s nipples, mapping out the muscles of his upper body, carding through platinum chest hair. Ivan was a god in disguise. And all his to take (or be taken by).

Alfred’s movements faltered when Ivan let out a shaky breath. Looking up, he found his lover to have gone quite red in the face. Looking down, he saw the obvious evidence of Ivan’s desire saluting through the black fabric of his briefs. A little more mature than Alfred’s own SpongeBob boxers, but it was all about contents. Ivan was sensitive to touch, probably because he was so very new to it.

Alfred scraped his throat. _Don’t get carried away, Jones_. He wasn’t going to let this end before it even started. Letting Ivan’s chest be (for now), he grabbed his wrists and gently pulled him back, taking careful step after careful step until his legs hit the bed. He began moving on top of it, urging Ivan on to follow his lead. Ivan did so wordlessly, the same intensity still illuminating his irises, dilating his pupils. Alfred’s own arousal lay reflected in those stunning eyes.

Both settling down on the bed, sitting up for now, Alfred moved in for another kiss. He paused before connecting their lips, forcing Ivan to look at him, waiting for him to relax before proceeding. Alfred used one hand to cup Ivan’s cheek, the other draped around his shoulder to caress along Ivan’s spine. After a short while, Ivan carefully wrapped his own arms around Alfred’s body, pulling him closer.

Everywhere Ivan touched his skin burnt, and everywhere Alfred touched he left a feverish trail. By now, Alfred was full-mast, erection straining against the fabric of his underwear. Knowing Ivan must feel quite the same, he released the other’s cheek and brought his free hand down to cup Ivan’s crotch.

Ivan jolted, but as soon as the initial surprise had faded, he began pressing himself into Alfred’s hand. Alfred moaned into the kiss, tongue melting against Ivan’s as he began feeling him up, pressing down and making circular movements. Before long, Ivan removed his arms from Alfred’s body and used them to push him down, another impulsive action that left Alfred craving for more. However, Ivan seemed unsure of what to do next, probably knowing how to continue in theory, but uneasy about putting that theory to practice. Alfred decided to help.

Breaking away from the kiss once again, his lips now perfectly swollen, he spoke. “Do you have any lube?”

Ivan seemed a little apprehensive about this turn of events, but his expression hardened with determination and he nodded. The “now or never” attitude was to take them through the whole thing, it seemed.

Ivan quickly jumped off the bed and sprinted into the bathroom, returning with a bottle of lubricant. At Alfred’s prompting, Ivan begrudgingly admitted that he’d bought it after yesterday’s “research”, wanting to be safe rather than sorry. It was a good thing he could produce quite the dangerous dead stare, as this helped in not receiving any unnecessary questions from the person behind the cash register (not that they’d been planning on asking in the first place).

When Ivan tried applying some lube to his fingers, hands trembling, Alfred stopped him. “Let me do this,” he said helpfully, disregarding his own want to feel those thick fingers up his ass. Ivan was nervous enough as it is, might as well help him the best he could.

“Are you sure?” Ivan asked, eyes widening.

Alfred nodded. “Just…keep yourself busy for a moment.” The suggestive tone of his words was undermined by the blush on his cheeks as he wiggled out of his boxers, throwing them aside as well. Ivan’s protests fell on deaf ears, and soon Ivan was staring down.

Alfred had always thought himself to be of reasonable size, not the biggest but definitely not small. However, right now Ivan was looking at his shape as if it were _huge_ , even though he himself must be quite a bit bigger. At least it worked wonders on Alfred’s confidence, and encouraged by Ivan’s admiring gaze, he lathered up his fingers and pushed inside.

Alfred lay back on the bed as he prepared himself, knees spread and toes digging into the blankets as sharp pangs of pain travelled up his inner walls. It was all worth it though, for as soon as he was stretched enough it wouldn’t hurt nearly as much, and then he’d finally get what he wanted. Ivan.

The mere thought of having Ivan inside him after all this time of yearning for it to happen made him clench up, small beads of precum trickling down his shaft. Ivan was still staring intently, only his gaze had gone a little unfocused. Alfred moaned approvingly when he watched Ivan bring down a hand, slip it under the hem of his own briefs, and began moving up and down.

“U-use the lube,” the American prompted, panting from the strain he was putting on his own body.

Ivan nodded, and after thoroughly applying lubrication to his hands he continued where he left off. Alfred could see his shape through the fabric, too large to be contained when Ivan’s hands joined. There was only one thought on Alfred’s mind: in a few moments from now, he’d have that inside of him. It was the single most stimulating thought he’d ever had.

Alfred didn’t want to wait any longer. He _couldn’t_ wait any longer. His impatience had met his limits. Removing his fingers, he held out the condom.

“Please,” he panted, nearly begging for it.

Ivan stopped his masturbating, pausing to look at Alfred’s face. Even though he hadn’t been nearly as vocal as Alfred usually was when he pleasured himself, it was clear that he was equally as ready. Nerves be damned.

Alfred moaned when Ivan finally took off his briefs, now getting a full view on his partner’s reddened cock. It was glorious. It was untouched, except by Ivan’s own hands. Alfred felt like he would burst if he didn’t get it right now.

“Ivan,” he choked out. “Get in me. Now.”

Ivan jolted again, before his expression changed. He was now leering at Alfred, putting on the condom with confident movements, probably like he’d seen done in “educational videos”. He clearly needn’t be told twice.

Alfred adjusted his position to be as comfortable as possible while Ivan crawled on top, cheeks flushed by their impatient foreplay. Alfred only hesitated one moment; perhaps he should have prolonged it even more to give Ivan the best possible experience, but when he looked the other in the eye, he knew that waiting was no longer an option.

Alfred brought his hands up to place them at Ivan’s temples, giving another brilliant smile. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

“I don’t,” Ivan admitted quietly, voice laden with lust nonetheless. “Sorry for making you wait.”

Alfred pulled him down for another kiss, nipping at those thin lips. “Don’t be. Just…get in.” Those last two words were said with more force, demanding action. As if it was Ivan’s fault, for being so sexy, that had gotten Alfred all hot and bothered. As if this was payback for all those lonely nights where Alfred had had nothing but his fantasy and his own two hands to help him get by. The moment Ivan began pushing in, a little roughly due to his inexperience, Alfred knew it had been worth the wait.

Alfred gasped, but when Ivan stopped to ask if things were okay, he quickly snapped at him to hurry it up, penetrate him further. Ivan obeyed, groaning as he pressed in, tight hotness hugging him in all the right ways. Both were panting like crazy by the time Ivan was fully sheathed. Alfred secretly praised himself for being able to take it. True, it still hurt like shit, but the pain was nothing compared to the pleasure he was feeling. The pleasure of finally getting fucked by his long-time crush. The pleasure of something hard and sweltering brushing against sensitive nerves, still very detectable through the thin layer of condom.

This was heaven. This was bliss.

“O-okay,” he wheezed. “Now move. If you can.”

“Of course I can,” Ivan threw back, even as this short exertion had him grinding his teeth from the effort it took. Alfred could tell that Ivan was enjoying himself as much as he was, if not more so. His hips were twitching with every little movement Alfred made, making it obvious that he was being assaulted by high amounts of pleasure.

Ivan gasped as he pulled back, only getting halfway before he found himself almost involuntarily pushing back in, craving the heat, the tightness. That abrupt jab had Alfred whining like an animal in heat. He quickly slung his arms around Ivan’s shoulders to hang on for dear life as Ivan set up a rhythm, shallow and shaky at first before becoming punishing. Since there was no one holding him back (and like hell was Alfred going to tell him to slow it down or take it easy), Ivan simply did what his instincts told him: give hard and borderline brutal thrusts to work to a quick and powerful orgasm.

Alfred wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Ivan not holding back meant that he didn’t have to either. And in all honesty, he doubted he’d last long even with a gentler approach. Some of his past lovers had called him a slut for dick, but well, if that’s what it took to be able to derive this much pleasure from having a guy fuck him senseless, then so be it. He’d gladly live up to an unwanted nickname if it meant he could take Ivan the way he did now, body being pushed up the mattress with every rough thrust, insides screaming in delight. He was absolutely sure that his ass would hurt like a bitch in the morning, but right now, he couldn’t care less.

“I-Ivan,” Alfred moaned, voice breaking as his eyes rolled back.

“S-sorry,” Ivan responded.

“What for?” Alfred huffed, trying to pry his eyes open to study Ivan’s face. Staring back at him was unadulterated lust, out of control ecstasy.

“Close,” Ivan mumbled, damp locks sticking to his reddened face, breath coming out in short puffs as his movements became more sporadic.

Alfred nodded. It was okay. Taking this as an encouragement, Ivan buried his face into the blankets next to Alfred’s head and gave those last few thrusts before completion. Alfred could feel the very moment it happened, reaching his own orgasm in the intensity of the moment. Ivan gave another few shaky pushes to ride out his climax before coming to a complete stop. Alfred’s eyes fluttered shut, and he could see flashes of white dance across his eyelids.

Perfect.

They lay there for a short moment before Ivan carefully pulled out, flopping down on his back beside Alfred. He quickly took off the condom, tied it into a knot, and threw it away into the bin standing next to his nightstand. Alfred’s eyes opened and he turned onto his side to look at Ivan. His beloved Russian was looking perfectly spent, cheeks still rosy, tongue licking along his salty lips.

“How was that?” he asked, voice gone hoarse from all the sounds he’d been making. His hand found Ivan’s and gave a squeeze, Ivan squeezing back.

“That was…” There were no words. Ivan’s gaze shifted to Alfred. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_ ,” Alfred corrected, giggling. “I was the one begging for it first, remember?”

Ivan turned onto his side as well. He looked beautiful like this, with only the bandages around his neck to keep him from being completely nude, sweat glistening on his flushed skin, pupils still wide. “How was it for you?”

“Do you even need to ask?” Alfred snorted. Still, he elaborated. “That was the most amazing sex I’ve ever had. You’re a natural.”

Ivan blushed, scowled at Alfred’s teasing, but couldn’t hide a smile. “You almost lead me to ask how many times you have done this.”

“Uh…”

Ivan moved up, leaning his upper body over Alfred in a menacing way. “I do not care to find out how many there were.”

Alfred was breathless for a moment, both because he feared the loss of Alfred Jr., and because _dang_ , it was illegal to look this sexy.

Still, Ivan’s laughter was disarming as he lay back down. Less so when Alfred was the one to crawl on top.

“You think you have another round in you?” he asked, voice suddenly filled with urgency.

All predatory jealousy left Ivan as he stared up, cheeks once more growing pink. “W-what?”

“I just can’t help it!” Alfred whimpered, stressed. “I see you and I just… _have_ to touch you!”

Ivan swallowed. This was going to be a long night. Especially when his lover was Alfred.

Lover. Huh. It _did_ have a nice ring to it.


	19. A boy and his Laboratory Retriever

Alfred slowly crawled through a thick fog of comfortable drowsiness. It was particularly hard to escape the sweet embrace of Morpheus this morning, and every time he tried opening his eyes he felt himself being pulled back and tucked in once again, five more minutes, just five.

When the blond did finally manage to become more aware of his own breathing, the stiffness of his joints, the warm cocoon of blanket wrapped tightly around his body, he yawned, stretched his arms, and rolled onto his side. Sleepily he reached out, ready to pull Ivan close against him for some lazy morning cuddling. It had been far too long since he’d had someone to do that with, and cuddling was the absolute best in Alfred’s book. It made you feel safe and warm and loved and wanted, allowing you to forget about all responsibilities and hardships at once. It was a purification of the soul.

A light frown worked his brow when instead of a lovely pile of Russian bulk, his hand found a whole lot of nothingness. When Alfred reached further out there was more of the same, and he found himself stretching and stretching until his hand reached the end of the mattress. At this sensation, blue eyes finally shot open, blinking blearily into the darkness. Even though his vision wasn’t that well without his glasses, he could tell that the bed was entirely Ivan-less.

Alfred sat up at once. Or at least, attempted to. For the moment his body tried shooting upright, a wailing ache in his nether regions quickly had him lying down again. All right then, sudden movements were a bad idea. They really went at it last night, didn’t they? Alfred would have made time for a round of giddy giggling at the memory, had there not been a rising sense of dissatisfaction in his gut.

Gently rolling onto his other side, the boy tried looking for his glasses on the bedside table. He could vaguely remember throwing them there during the process of undressing. He somehow found them neatly folded, as if waiting to be found by his wandering hand. Strange, he couldn’t recall that amount of careful scrutiny happening any time during last night. Nevertheless, there were more important matters at hand, like his serious lack of vitamin Ivan.

Alfred briskly put on his beloved spectacles and tried sitting up again, this time doing so by piling pillows behind his back to lean against as he made his way up. This new vantage point brought even more surprises with it. There was the fact that Ivan’s side of the bed appeared to be neatly made. There was also a glass of water waiting on the table, right next to where his glasses had previously lain.

For one, heart-breaking moment, Alfred’s breath caught. Ivan couldn’t have just…up and ran, could he? Had this really just been a one-night fling after all, a way of letting off some steam? Should he consider himself lucky he hadn’t found a pile of cash to pay for his services, like some cheap skank?

Oh never mind, he could hear movement in the room over. Well duh, Ivan wouldn’t just leave his own home, on a Sunday to boot. Dumb.

Alfred brought the glass of water to his lips and downed it in one go. He gathered the blankets to his chest and slowly, using one muscle at the time, he moved his legs to the side and let them slither onto the carpet. His butt and its surrounding muscles were protesting a lot, as were his shoulders and lower back and neck (don’t ask), but he figured he could move as long as he took it easy. Keeping the blankets on his body like some sort of cape or a very warm and soft bathrobe, the boy slowly pushed himself up. His wobbly legs almost immediately sent him down again, but he managed to find his balance. Jesus, he was really out of shape. It had been too long indeed.

Alfred shuffled over to the door separating Ivan’s bedroom from the rest of his apartment, and peeked out. He could spot Ivan sitting at his desk, fully clothed, eagerly working his lazy Sunday morning away. A huge wave of relief washed over the sunny blond, cleansing him from any fear. Of course, he should have known. He’d already made Ivan lose several hours of work, days even, by being such a sexy and un-ignorable beast. Naturally, Ivan would use these free moments to feed his inner workaholic.

Of course, Alfred was still a needy attention hog on the morning after he’d finally gotten his long-awaited VIP ticket for the Ivan train, and he needed some sweet lovin’ right now. Ivan had plenty of time to work later, seeing as he was a social hermit. (Alfred made a mental note to help him with that sometime along the way.)

Smiling, the young American began shuffling towards his lover, still dragging the blanket behind him, keeping one hand to the wall for support. Ivan’s typing slowed down for a moment when he became aware of the sound, and he looked over his shoulder, expression reminding Alfred of a cute confused owl. Their gazes locked, held, and then Ivan quickly looked back, staring at the bright screen of his laptop.

“Ah, _dobroe utro_.” His ears were red.

Alfred felt something clench in his chest, a sort of fondness or devoted adoration. Ivan was back to being shy, probably because this was the first morning after EVER of his life. It was only natural he didn’t really know how to deal. Perhaps the glass of water was something he’d encountered while doing “research”. Alfred still felt butterflies when thinking about his studious virginal…hopefully boyfriend looking all those things up, just for him. Because he too had longed to touch another body, had been lying awake at night in wonderful anticipation.

Alfred’s smile grew even wider, nearly outgrowing the rest of his face. “Mornin’ to you too, sunshine. Sleep well?”

Ivan’s ears flushed a deeper red at the off-handed word of affection. “Ah, _da_. Thank you.” His writing slowed down once more, and he chanced another glance over his shoulder. “And…what about you?”

Alfred once more stretched his arms, blanket barely holding on to his shoulders. “Slept like a baby. My ass is hurting like fuck though.”

Ivan gave a start, half slipping off his chair before whirling around to give his more-than-a-friend a proper once-over. “I am so sorry, I didn’t know—I did not mean to—“

“Hey, relax!” Alfred laughed, waving off Ivan’s distress, heart swelling at the concern. “It’s not your fault at all. I was just too impatient, and I could’ve told you to slow down, but I didn’t want to. I’m entirely to blame here.”

“Oh,” Ivan wisely responded. He stared a bit longer, taking in Alfred’s state of dress (or lack thereof), cheeks growing pink. “Well then you should have told me to be more gentle! You have to take better care of your body, Alfred.” It seemed his flustered irritation was now entirely directed at the fact that Alfred hadn’t stopped him from going at it as rough as his body wanted. Three rounds long. The ashen blond was probably only just now coming down from his high. He was…so…

Ivan made a small noise of protest when instead of apologising for his own carelessness, Alfred swooped down to steal a kiss from those soft lips.

“I just can’t help but let go when you’re around, angel eyes,” the American said in a deep voice, still hoarse with sleep, feeling so suave when Ivan’s lips snapped together in a refreshing embarrassment. Some of the smoothness disappeared when this sudden movement caused him to lose his balance; one moment he was leaning over Ivan, the next found him lying in the other’s lap.

“Look at you!” Ivan chided, but when he failed to hide a snort, Alfred knew he was safe. His goofiness had put Ivan more at ease than any proclamations of admiration could have done. Alfred’s heart made a flip-flop when Ivan suddenly lifted him up bridal style, making the boy feel light as a feather, his own cheeks now darkening. Ivan teasingly grumbled about Americans who couldn’t take proper care of themselves and who kept him from his work, and yet Alfred failed to detect even a single hint of animosity.

Ivan gingerly deposited his partner on the bed, rearranging the pillows to fit neatly beneath his head and shoulders, fluffing up the blanket before repositioning it over Alfred’s nude form. All the while, Alfred kept intently gazing upon Ivan’s face, loving the look of concentration adorning his pale features. Ivan went to refill Alfred’s glass and placed it on the bedside table, then lingered at his side, seeming unsure of what to do next.

“So…” Alfred was the first to break the silence. “When are you free this week?”

Ivan started again, hands wringing, but he quickly composed himself (a bit). “Let’s see…I suppose you could just drop by tomorrow evening…” His gaze grew more stern. “But you will have to let me finish my work today! And—why are you looking at me like that?!”

Alfred blinked, quickly closing his gaping mouth. “Sorry, I just…didn’t expect…” Ivan wanted it too. He was all right with... “So, just so we’re clear. We’re like, a thing, right? Officially?”

Ivan’s hands were still clenching and unclenching, but the glare he next shot at his house guest was almost scorching. “Why would that even be an issue?! You think I am really the type for, for ‘kissing and running’ or however you say that?!” His brow furrowed heavily. “And you had better not be thinking about running off to the next—thing! I swear, if it turns out you have been keeping me from my work all this time just for a quick fuck…what?! What is funny?!”

Alfred wiped the tears from his eyes. “Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt that beautiful speech. I’m just really fucking happy. Of course I want us to be exclusive! You really think I’m the type to hit and run after putting that much effort and time into it?” His grin was blinding. “I’m _thrilled_. I really don’t want this to end after just one night.” It had been so long. So _long_ , since it had been about more than just sex.

Ivan took a step forward, expression still menacing (deliciously so). “Good!” he said fiercely. “Because you are mine now, understood? I do not want to hear about you going with anyone else…” Becoming a little more aware of what he was saying, the Russian tried settling down, but one look at Alfred was enough to kindle the flames.

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Alfred moaned breathlessly.

Ivan bobbed his head from side to side, contemplating the request, before taking another step towards the needy American. “Just one, all right? I really need to get back to work after that. And kissing you…kissing my boyfriend is distracting.”

Boyfriend. No one had ever…

Alfred was nodding his head so fast it felt like it could pop off, just like that. “I promise. I’ll try to keep the distractions to a minimum. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!” His fingers were crossed beneath the blanket. Ivan could use some distractions if he didn’t want to have a burn-out at age thirty.

Ivan took a final step, leant in with eyes closed and lips puckered…and immediately made a noise of protest when Alfred pulled him down on top of him.

“Al-fred!”

“Just a little bit!” the boy laughed, peppering Ivan’s face with kisses. “Part of having sex is aftercare, and I’m in need of being taken care of.”

Ivan grew still at this, not really having a comeback to such reasoning. He let out a groan when Alfred’s touches grew more intimate.

“What are…”

“Just a little bit,” Alfred repeated, smile scandalously innocent. “I promise I’ll leave you alone after that.”

The promise was extended two more times that day, and in the end Ivan didn’t have the energy or concentration left to continue his work. This _did_ mean that Alfred lost any date-privileges for the next day, but it was a trade he was more than willing to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Dobroe utro” means good morning.


	20. Separation Anxiety

Alfred came home late that Sunday evening, limping his way up the stairs (he wasn’t actually hurt, just very, _very_ stiff). He was lucky to locate his keys rather quickly, sighing in relief that they hadn’t gone lost in all the, ahem, roughhousing he’d endured that day. Kiku was probably already asleep by now, seeing as they had an early class the following morning. He didn’t want to keep Kiku from his much-needed rest.

Alfred carefully guided his key to the lock, ears perked when it made a satisfying click. No sound could be heard coming from inside, indicating that his clever deductions had been correct. A little less carefully, he swung open the door and stepped inside. Only to almost get a heart attack when the light suddenly flipped on, revealing his roommate sitting on top of the table, expression stone-cold.

“Alfred,” Kiku said icily, “call your brother. Right now.”

Alfred blinked owlishly, hand still on the door handle. After a moment he fished out his phone, staring warily at the screen. The battery had died.

“Oh, I forgot to…to bring my…” He chuckled a bit nervously, cheeks flaring when his gaze wandered back up again. He gave an apologetic shrug as Kiku cocked an eyebrow.

“I am not going to ask why you didn’t come back home Friday night, because I have a pretty good idea of why that is.” He shuddered once. “But _at least_ give a call before disappearing from the surface of the earth for the entire weekend.”

Remorse suddenly flashed across Alfred’s features. While he had been living on Cloud Nine for three days, apparently his brother and best friend had been worrying sick over him.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly said, words stumbling from his mouth in a flurry of apologies. “I really didn’t want to worry you guys, I was just a little busy with—“

Kiku put up his hand. “No excuses! Go plug in your phone and call your brother.” But while he said that, Alfred saw his harsh expression soften into one of relief. Apologies had been accepted.

As Alfred hurried over to his bedroom as fast as possible, he caught Kiku staring at his wooden movements. He grinned, and gave a wink. Kiku shuddered again.

He shuddered a lot more later that night, after Alfred called his brother, when he suddenly felt the need to tell his bestie all about what happened during those three days of absence.

* * *

The week that followed went by like a rosy dream. It certainly felt unreal enough, this palpable happiness. Every time Alfred closed his eyes, he could see Ivan, and every time he opened them, he could taste him, touch him, hear and smell those divine scents and roughened speech patterns. There was sneaking up from behind to snake his arms around the other’s waist, stolen kisses in the empty classroom, visits after school that started with a grin of expectation and ended with an even bigger grin of satisfaction.

It was so good, almost too good to be true. But Alfred didn’t give himself any time to linger on those more negative thoughts. He had always been an optimist after all, he should just focus on the here and now. And the here and now was heavenly.

Ivan was equally as hungry for Alfred’s mouth, his touches and caresses and whispered obscenities. Alfred saw it in the darkening of those beautiful eyes, the trembling skin underneath his fingertips, how Ivan only protested a little before giving in when Alfred proved a successful distraction from his work. Oh, and Alfred made sure to distract the guy whenever and wherever he could.

This heaven lasted for a full week, a week where nothing could bother either of them, where work was done quickly and without a thought, the better to enjoy their time together. An interruption in that divine daily routine only came on Saturday, after they had gone at it for a couple of rounds (one was never enough), and they were lying in bed, facing the other, talking easily to relax the muscles.

“So your birthday is the 30th of December? Sweet. Gotta make sure we do something nice then.”

Ivan flicked his nose. “No need. I have not celebrated my birthday since I was a child.”

“What?! No way!”

Ivan chuckled. “Besides, you should focus on studying for your finals first. They start next week, _da_?”

Alfred had been chuckling softly, teasingly, but it now came to a stuttering halt. His mouth still formed that grin, even as his eyes widened and figure tensed. Finals. Right. Which were starting…

Ivan blinked, before pushing himself up on one elbow. “You _have_ been studying, right? You are working hard on preparing for them whenever we are not together?”

Alfred still had that sheepish look on in his blue eyes as they wandered up, locking with Ivan’s. They did not like the frown that suddenly pulled down the Russian’s brow.

“You are joking. This is a joke.”

“I uh…I kinda forgot all about them…”

For one moment, Alfred thought that Ivan was going to hit him. He looked _that_ murderous. Instead, Ivan sat up fully, flinging back the blankets. “Get out.”

Alfred flinched when hearing those hard words. Ivan couldn’t mean… “W-what? Why?”

Ivan looked back at him, still wearing a look that could most definitely kill. “You are going back home to study right now. I cannot believe…” He growled, before rubbing at his temples. “Look, what we have is fun, but it should not get in the way of your studies!”

Alfred had begun trembling. What was Ivan saying? He quickly sat up as well, painfully clutching the blankets in his hands. The trembling wouldn’t stop.

“Wait! I mean, let’s not make any rash decision here, like, okay, it was really bad of me to just forget about my finals, but that doesn’t mean—“

“Alfred.” Ivan gripped the other’s shoulders. Alfred could feel warm breath ghosting over his face. “Go home, now. I want you to study as if your life depends on it. Which is does, or at least, your future. You are very stupid for forgetting about the most important thing of your school career!”

Alfred swallowed painfully. He didn’t feel like crying though, but that no longer surprised him. He could have seen this coming, after all. He should have.

“So…” His voice was weak and tiny. “That’s it? You’re…you’re breaking up with me?”

However, instead of nodding his head, or giving any other sign that yes, this was indeed it, Alfred was right, Ivan’s eyes widened in shock. “Breaking up? What are you talking about?”

Alfred slowly shook his head, trying to swallow past a lump settling deep down his throat. “That’s what you’re saying, right? That you…that you don’t want to be with me anymore? That…I’m too stupid for…”

“No!” Ivan growled, successfully cutting him off (the trembling still didn’t stop). “I just…” He sighed, clearly annoyed, although a little sorry for lashing out like that. “Look, I am not breaking up with you, I still like you and… _this_ , but I really think we should stop getting together at least until after your finals are finished.” He captured Alfred’s chin, forcing his gaze up. Ivan’s expression had softened considerably. “Work first…sex later. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

Alfred breathed in shakily, before nodding. “Okay. Sorry.”

Ivan hugged him close, until the trembles finally did stop. “You don’t have to apologise, just…try not to forget again, okay? I do not want you to throw away your future for me.”

He didn’t notice the blank stare Alfred was wearing.

Of course work came first. Of course.


	21. Lust is just a chemical reaction

Alfred studied harder than ever. He had to, not just to make sure he actually kept the grades he had worked for, but to prove himself a worthy partner to stand by Ivan’s side. Ivan was ambitious, a guy in love with his work. Alfred needed to be the same to truly earn his love, his attention, his devotion.

Kiku couldn’t comprehend what he witnessed. While Alfred had always been the type to study hard when the finals rolled around the corner, this year he more resembled a robot rather than a hard-working student. He locked himself up in his room from dawn ‘til dusk, only coming out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Kiku even had to take it upon himself to bring the guy the occasional snack and drink to stay hydrated, or force him outside to catch some of that much-needed vitamin D. Usually it was the other way around. What had happened to change Alfred’s work ethic so drastically?

Alfred studied and studied and studied. He got through those first days of exams, he got through the next set. There were dark bags under his feverishly blue eyes, his tan had faded. He didn’t call his brother, he barely responded to Kiku’s care, muttering formulas and definitions under his breath, dreaming of calculations and dates and names. It was like Ivan had infected him with some kind of disease that made him obsessed with passing these finals with the highest grades possible. But if it worked, it would be so worth it. He needed to prove himself, it was of the highest necessity to prove his worth.

Alfred didn’t see Ivan during all that time, not even once. He studied so hard, it started to make his Russian lover worry. The few times Ivan happened to catch Alfred rushing by in the hallways, hurrying to the library or an exam, he couldn’t help but notice the pale skin, the signs of exhaustion, but also the look of pure and utter determination dragging him through this whole ordeal. Ivan both felt his heart swell with pride over Alfred’s perseverance, and a deep sense of worry. While Ivan himself had often looked like this back when he still had his own finals to study for, he couldn’t ever recall seeing Alfred like this (not that he noticed Alfred that often before the guy had started to make himself be noticed by him).

Ivan’s emotions were thrown for a loop on the final days of exams, when he had been cleaning up in the lab, and Alfred suddenly came bursting through the door.

“They’re done!” Alfred crowed in a high-pitched voice, surging forward to meet Ivan’s lips with his own, before collapsing into the guy’s arms.

“Alfred!” Ivan cried, worry doubling in size, but at the same time feeling relieved when he finally felt that warm body against his own once again. He didn’t like to say it out loud, but he had missed Alfred. The sound of his voice, his kisses, the way he looked at him with pure adoration. Still, this was no time to be selfish.

Ivan quickly carried his boyfriend over to a chair, planting him down on top of it. Alfred was smiling goofily, finally allowing himself to relax after all that time. “I did it, Ivan. I studied like the devil was on my tail, and now it’s done!”

Ivan chuckled. “I am proud of you, _dorogoy_. Here, drink.”

He pushed a glass of water into Alfred’s hands. Alfred took one look at it, before setting it aside. Ivan felt his gut give a lurch when Alfred grabbed him by the collar and yanked him close, smashing their mouths together.

“Al-fred!” Ivan gasped, struggling against the other’s hold, even as his lips burnt, yearning for more.

“I came for this,” Alfred growled, nipping playfully at the other’s tongue, a hint of urgency underlining each word. “You have no idea how much I masturbated the past few weeks.”

“We are at school!” Ivan hissed, even when his ears loved the sounds leaving that devilish mouth. While they _had_ been making out a little here and there before finals began, in the bathroom, abandoned hallways, or just, wherever they could, sex had been limited to Ivan’s apartment. Work and private life should be kept separated, after all.

Still, his resolve wavered when he saw the burning passion in Alfred’s eyes, felt those hands start to roam his clothed back.

“Please? I just, reaaaally can’t wait any longer.” He moved in to whisper in Ivan’s ear, before curling his lips around the tip. “I want you now. I _need_ you.”

Ivan couldn’t resist. He simply couldn’t. Even as his head screamed at him to say no, stop it right now, just take the guy home before anything bad happens, his body reacted immediately to the touches, the words, meeting Alfred’s desire with his own. Was this what it was like to truly be…?

Buttons were quickly ripped apart, hungry mouths biting and licking and sucking. Fingers found nipples, words were muttered to urge the other on, speed up the process, there was no time to wait any longer…

“What is going on here?!”

The boys stiffened, each heart skipping a beat, nearly coming to a complete halt before shuddering back into action at high velocity. Neither was fully unclothed at the moment, but their positions could hardly fool anyone. Alfred was half lying on top of the desk at the front of the room, Ivan on top of him, their shirts discarded, belts unbuckled, Alfred’s pants already halfway down to his knees, his erection showing clearly through his boxer shorts even as it was partially obscured by Ivan pressing his crotch against the other’s. Only their heads were turned away from each other, each expression reading dread as they looked fearfully at Harold Munch, currently standing in the doorway, looking quite like a red lobster ready to boil over.

They were dead.

Ivan was the first to shoot back into action, straightening up to quickly pull his shirt back on, throwing his lab coat over Alfred’s body to give him at least a little decency back. Alfred began sitting up while Munch marched over, legs clenched together, erection still present due to his fear rather than any lingering excitement. His cheeks were burning; this was the first time he’d actually been caught by a _professor_. On a scale from one to ten, his embarrassment had to be one-hundred.

“Sir, I can explain,” Ivan began, but Munch exploded before he could finish his sentence.

“Of all people to abuse their position, I never expected _you_ to be one of them!” He was furious, directing his outburst at Ivan for the time being. Ivan stood rigidly before him, taking it without batting an eye, even as his cheeks remained a constant crimson.

“What were you even thinking?! I did _not_ hire you so you could use the school’s premises for your own lustful escapades!” His choice of words would have been funny had they been uttered in a different situation. “And that with a _student_ of all people! You are lucky he isn’t a minor, or I would have gone to the police right now!”

“I would never have sex with a minor,” Ivan bristled, but he cut himself off when seeing the look on Munch’s face. All colour drained from his own face at the next words that left that angrily spitting mouth.

“Go grab your things, Bragemsky. You’re fired.”

This time, it was Alfred’s time to pipe in. “What…? You can’t fire him for this!”

Munch sent Alfred a look so pissed and, above all, disappointed, that it finally helped in having Alfred lose his little problem.

“I would keep my mouth shut if I were you, Jones. You are lucky you’re not working for me, or I would fire you too.” He turned back to Ivan. “You understand why I’m doing this, right? You had sex with a student on school grounds _during_ the time you should be working. I hired you because they promised me you were reliable, but I see that they were wrong in recommending you.”

“No, sir, please!” Ivan looked like he was pleading for his life. “I promise this was a one-time thing, we usually never—“

“I don’t want to hear about what you and Mr. Jones do in your time off!” Munch interrupted him, visibly uncomfortable even thinking about it. “I am not repeating myself! Jones, get dressed, and YOU, go clean your desk. I want you out by the end of the day.”

Time seemed to slow down as Alfred looked over to Ivan. He could almost see his dreams shattering in that anxious shifting of his eyes, those sagging shoulders, everything about him deflating and crumbling. This job was what he had worked himself to death for. This job was his life, his chance at a better future. He could NOT lose it over something as stupid as…as…

“No,” Alfred said, voice steady despite how shaky he felt. Shaken up. Stirred and turned upside-down. This wasn’t how he had expected today to go, not in the slightest. “I’ll go. It was my idea to use this room. I should be punished, not him.”

Both Ivan and Munch jerked at the sound of his voice, quickly looking over. Ivan in disbelief, Munch in confusion.

“Your idea? Are you saying that _you_ tried distracting _him_ , not the other way around?”

Alfred nodded. His stomach felt burning hot and colder than both the poles. Like he had swallowed molten lava inside an ice cube. “Yeah. Ivan had nothing to do with it. It’s all my fault. I take the blame for the whole thing.” He kept himself standing upright, head held high. The only thing betraying his true feelings were his hands, balled to tight fists, shaking with every heartbeat.

“You _do_ know what this means?” Munch pressed. “That you cannot continue studying my courses, and that you will have to look for a different major?” His tone was a lot more gentle when addressing Alfred; Munch had always been more concerned about the well-being of his students over that of his assistants. Ivan had never minded, even liked the dedication the professor felt to teaching his discipline. Right now, he didn’t know what was good and bad anymore. He couldn’t believe what Alfred was saying.

“Alfred, wait—“

“It’s okay,” Alfred cut him off, laughing dryly. He lifted up his pants and threw the coat back at its original owner, Ivan catching it wordlessly, still bewildered. “I’m fine, really. You shouldn’t lose your job over someone like me. I’m sorry for keeping you from your work. It was fun while it lasted.” He paused for a moment, seeming to hesitate, before looking Ivan in the eye. “I’m sorry for using you like that. For seducing you. I just thought you’d be an easy target.”

“I do not understand…“ _What is he saying_?

“You don’t?” Alfred laughed, sounding condescending. “I just wanted to have sex with you. It was never meant to last. Now we’re done, the fun’s over. So run along, get back to work. Goodbye, Ivan.”

And with that, he walked out, hands still balled to fists, the trembles now racking his whole body, leaving the two staring at his back, one wondering at why the boy would give up his entire school career for a quick shag, the other confused to the core.

So that was it. _Was_ that it? Had all of this just been a quick little interruption from daily life, ready to be forgotten, put behind them just like that? Why would Alfred just walk away like that, without even looking back? Had he truly meant what he said?

And why had he sounded so bittersweet while saying it?


	22. Chemists have all the solutions

The hallways at the local college were quickly being emptied by an obscure force of nature. Every student walking its dirty stone tiles could feel a dark force approaching before they could even see it, and knew to stay clear of its path. That was the rage of Ivan Braginsky, urging him on as he stomped through corridor after corridor, phone in hand.

He was in a word, pissed. Pissed at getting caught by Munch and almost losing his job because of it. Pissed at what Alfred had said afterwards, and the way he had left before Ivan could further question his true intentions. Pissed again at Alfred for not picking up his phone, not even after what felt like the hundredth time of dialling that now familiar number. Pissed at himself for getting carried away.

It was clear that Alfred didn’t want to talk to him, but why?! Had he truly meant what he said the day before; that he had only intended on seducing Ivan and casting him aside as soon as he was done with him? Was this really all that mattered? If it were so, Ivan couldn’t understand. The mere suggestion of it being true set his gut aflame, wicked storms of scorching lava coiling in his stomach. He simply couldn’t believe it, and yet there was no other explanation. There was no…

Ivan jerked to a halt when he recognised a familiar face at the other end of the hallway. It was the Japanese boy that Alfred shared an apartment with, Kiku. Fine. If Alfred himself wouldn’t listen, then his friend would have to do.

“Hey, you!” Ivan roared, stomping over as soon as the boy’s head jerked up to him. Ivan could see his figure stiffen, could practically smell his fear, and yet there was also something cold in Kiku’s eyes.

“Oh. And what do _you_ want?” Kiku mumbled, voice soft in apprehension, yet steady as a drum. Kiku wasn’t going to back away from this confrontation, no matter how much Ivan’s mere size intimidated him, not to speak of the current gaze with which he regarded his new companion.

Ivan pointed a finger at the other’s chest. “You tell Alfred…”

He paused, reconsidered. In a flash he was digging through his pockets, reaching out his wallet and grabbing whatever bills he could take a hold of. “Here,” he spat, pushing the money into Kiku’s hands. “You tell him that if it was his plan to make a fool out of me, he did a great job.” His tone was bitter, hurt.

Kiku sent a confused glance at the bills in his hands, but then something seemed to click. Without another moment’s thought, he threw them onto the ground in front of Ivan’s feet. Ivan wanted to yell at him for not taking Alfred’s payment, emotions boiling over, but Kiku was faster.

“What are you talking about?! Alfred would never do something like that!”

“Well, he did,” Ivan said thinly. “So tell him—“

“Tell him yourself,” Kiku growled, voice rising as more parts of the puzzle began to fall into place. “Or wait, don’t. If this is who you really are, don’t ever come near him again. Alfred is not a whore! He’s had his heart broken like this far too many times already.”

Ivan frowned, took half a step back. “I do not know what you—“

Kiku continued, no longer seeming like a frightened little bird in the face of grave danger. “You think you are the first to just throw my friend away like…like some used condom?!” The wording was crude, but it best fit the situation. “Every single time I’ve been there to patch him up, I’ve watched his heart break over and over because they only wanted him for his body and stopped caring once they got bored of him! They thought he was stupid and gullible, and just used him!” Kiku’s eyes were flaring, his chest heaving. “Well this was the last time! You find yourself a proper prostitute if that’s all you’re after!”

“I…do not…” Ivan was having trouble processing everything. His heart told him to simply continue screaming, not to listen to anything the other was saying, but his head was begging him to take a moment and think it over. “What…others? I do not understand. I… _you_ are misunderstanding! _Alfred_ is the one who…who only wanted my…”

Kiku took a step closer, looking up in determination. “The others! Alfred’s previous boyfriends! Or at least, he _thought_ they were his boyfriends, but clearly they weren’t, because all they ever wanted was his body!” Kiku was nearly tearing up, something he never did.  This was an emotional outburst unlike any he’d ever had before (or would ever have again, if it were up to him). “And now it finally looked like he had found someone whom he could actually be with, in a normal relationship, but no! You’re just like everyone else.”

“I am not.”

Kiku quickly stopped talking, taking the step back he’d previously advanced. Ivan seemed to have cooled down a bit. There was still that intense look in his eyes, but he once more seemed to be capable of having a normal conversation.

“I was never _just_ after him for his body. Why would I?” He shook his head, anger quickly being replaced by sadness. “I do not care at all about how people look, or…physical stuff. Admittedly, it is fun—“ Kiku pulled a face. “—but I would definitely never go into a relationship with someone just for that.” His shoulders sagged. “I thought…I thought it was the same for him. That he wanted more too…but I was wrong. Yesterday proved me wrong.”

“Yesterday?” Kiku asked, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. “So you know what happened yesterday?”

“You too, then?” Ivan asked, giving a single humourless laugh.

Kiku shook his head. “All I know, is that Alfred comes home crying, then he tells me he has to quit college, won’t tell me why or how, locks himself up in his room, and when he comes out again he tells me he’s called his parents to come pick him up the next day.”

A sudden sensation of shock rippled through Ivan’s body. “Alfred was…crying?” Then the rest of it registered. “He is _leaving_?! So soon?”

Kiku nodded, then looked Ivan straight in the eye. “If you know why…you _have_ to tell me.”

Ivan opened his mouth, closed it. “Yesterday, we got caught,” he finally brought out. “Professor Munch wanted to fire me, but…”

_But Alfred stood up to him. For…for me._

Several things suddenly began falling into place. Kiku’s story, combined with Alfred’s reaction yesterday…

The shaking. Oh God.

“Kiku,” Ivan said, grabbing the other by the shoulders, ignoring his flinching. “You are speaking the truth? About Alfred’s past relationships?”

“I would never lie about that,” Kiku said, regarding Ivan with uncertainty.

“Yesterday,” Ivan continued, heartrate speeding up as he began to realise more and more. “Alfred took my place; he is now leaving so that I can keep my job.” It was such a stupid thing to do, but in a way, noble. Stupid, heroic Alfred. “He said that he had only meant to seduce me, and—oh, how could I have not seen it?! He must have somehow thought I do not care about him, that I would rather have my job than continue seeing him!”

Ivan released Kiku and began pacing. “I do not know how or why he has come to this conclusion, but I think Alfred has somehow mistaken something I did for me only being interested in his body.”

“How nice of you to realise that,” Kiku said coolly, still not ready to trust Ivan after hurting his friend, whether it be on purpose or by accident.

“The shaking!” Ivan gasped. “He was shaking yesterday—he was also shaking when he thought we were going to break up because I got mad at him for not studying!” He stopped dead in his tracks, expression growing mournful. “If I had known, of course I would have told him that he was wrong… If I had simply noticed the shaking sooner, I could have reassured him that…”

That what?

That he wasn’t after Alfred’s body. That he didn’t _really_ think Alfred to be stupid; the guy was a straight-A college student for God’s sake! That his job might be important to him, but not at the cost of another’s future.

Ivan gave a small strained laugh. “It wasn’t even his body that I noticed first, but his personality… His enthusiasm, his passion, his optimism…”

That he cared deeply for Alfred, all of him.

“I…I am sorry for giving the wrong impression… You must tell him— _I_ must tell him…”

That he loved him.

That he _loved_ him. Was in love with him.

That he, Ivan Braginsky, loved him, Alfred F. Jones.

Ivan’s eyes widened as it hit him, a blast of lightning splitting open his skull and travelling all the way down the spine. It was so strong it made him dizzy, and he could vaguely hear Kiku’s concerned voice when he had to lean against the wall, the world swimming before his eyes.

“I love him,” he whispered, and for whatever reason it felt so _right_ to say it, made his heart speed up, his fingers tingle.

“I love him,” he repeated, louder this time, and at once his surroundings snapped back into view.

Ivan looked behind him to where Kiku was standing, unsure of what to do. Kiku yelped when he was pulled into a sudden bone-grinding embrace.

“I have to go talk to professor Munch first!” Ivan brought out, heart growing wings and taking flight. He leant back to look Kiku in the eyes. “Kiku, everything that has happened has all been a huge misunderstanding. You have to trust me on this.” He leant in, Kiku gulping. “You _have_ to make sure Alfred doesn’t leave before I get there. Can you do this?”

Kiku’s blinked several times. “I…how can I know you—“

“ _Please_ ,” Ivan begged him, almost going down on his knees, taking the other’s hands into his own. “I have come to the realisation that I simply cannot let him leave, and I need your help!”

Kiku looked at him for a long, seemingly endless moment, but in the end he nodded. “ _Hai_.”

Ivan jumped up, giving a smile unlike he’d ever given before, warming up his face considerably. “I am forever in your debt! I will be there as soon as possible!”

Before he could leave though, Kiku placed a hand on his arm. Ivan turned back, impatiently clacking his tongue.

“If it turns out you were lying…I will come for you.”

Ivan didn’t shudder, but he knew any other person would have when assaulted by that gaze of pure murderous intent. He nodded gravely, and sped off as soon as Kiku let go of him. It was time to go and set things right.

* * *

Harold Munch was happily typing away on his laptop. He was writing an email to one of his correspondents over in Hong Kong, regarding a new article that had appeared in their field of study. Simply discussing away was what he loved doing most, and it always relaxed him to type out his thoughts and arguments. Relaxation became rather difficult when his assistant suddenly came bursting in through the door to his office.

“Professor Munch!” Ivan shouted, making the other almost leap out of his chair.

“Brahimsky!” Munch said indignantly, closing his laptop as he shot an annoyed glare at the unwanted intruder. “I thought that surely after yesterday, you would—“

He was cut off when Ivan briskly walked over to his desk and slammed his hands down on top of it, expression fierce as he leant over. Munch shuddered, suddenly becoming very aware of the fact that Ivan was almost a head taller than him.

“Professor, you cannot send Alfred away!” Ivan demanded, and these words seemed to surprise the middle-aged man.

“This again?” he grumbled, trying to compose himself. “I thought we finished discussing this yesterday…”

“We have not, because I have realised something since yesterday, and it was selfish of me to even let him make the suggestion and not try to stop him!”

Munch huffed. “Surely, whatever realisation you have come to can’t be grounds for—“

“I love him!” Ivan interrupted the man, leaning in further, boldly bringing their faces close. He ignored Munch’s irate spluttering. “Professor, I love him, and I cannot let him sacrifice his studies for my own carelessness! It was a mistake to do it at school, and I will take full responsibility for that, but you have to reconsider!”

Munch tried leaning back as far as he could, cheeks heating up. He didn’t become a scholar just to be discussing things as sex and puppy love! “I don’t see how you being in love with him changes the situation. In fact, it makes it worse! It means that if I were to let him stay, you’d definitely—“

“We won’t!” Ivan hurriedly spoke. “Because…I will quit.”

The room went very quiet after that last outburst. Munch was staring at him in utter disbelief.

“You…quit?”

Ivan’s gaze hardened, but he nodded. “I will quit, and you will take Alfred back into your program.”

Munch’s eyebrows shot up; Ivan ignored him.

“I am the older of the two, and I will not let my mistakes ruin his chances. Professor, if you will not listen to what I have to say, then at least do this for me.”

Munch folded his hands, expression growing pensive. “You would give up an entire career for this one fling?”

“Not a fling!” Ivan said fiercely.

“All right—suppose you really _do_ love him. What do you hope to gain from this relationship? Because as far as I see it, it only serves to distract you from the job which you are now giving up on.”

Ivan shook his head, restlessly searching for the right words to express himself.

“I…I want to make Alfred happy. Being with him has made me happier than I have ever been, and…and I want for him to feel the same.” His voice grew more steady as his determination hardened. “Professor Munch, you have only seen us this once, but I can promise you this: it is not just about the sex. I would give that up in the blink of an eye if I could just continue to stay by his side.” Albeit begrudgingly; but Alfred was more important than that one side of their relationship. “Professor, you have seen how smart he is, how enthusiastic—you cannot take this away from him! I may have ruined my own chances, but do not let the same go for him!”

“Ruined your chances?” Munch asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Ivan frowned. “ _Da_. By…using the classroom…” Munch’s expression quickly made him jump to the next topic. “And by abusing your trust. If you were to give me a second chance, I would prove to you that I _can_ be trusted, but since I am quitting—“

“About that…”

Ivan paused, slowly leant back up.

Munch adjusted a pencil to lie parallel of its brothers. “I may consider not letting you quit.”

Ivan’s blood turned cold. “Professor, please—!”

“I may consider,” Munch went on, “to give you that second chance. The both of you.”

Ivan blinked. He couldn’t believe his ears. “Professor…?”

“Under certain conditions of course,” Munch continued, still sternly looking at his pencils as they just wouldn’t lie the way he wanted them to lie. “But…in all this time, I have never seen you talk so passionately about anything, really. And when I think back on it; you _have_ been the most diligent and trustworthy assistant I have ever had, in all my years. Yesterday might be a slip-up after all, if I am to believe you. And for some reason, I do.”

He finally looked up, catching Ivan’s perplexed expression. “Naturally, Alfred won’t be able to help you prepare classes anymore.”

Ivan closed his gaping mouth. “Naturally!” Could this really be happening?

“If you _do_ end up ruining your second chance in any way possible, I will have to let you go and inform my colleagues that you aren’t to be trusted.”

Ivan was nodding so fiercely his neck was screaming in protest.

“You will have to come in earlier and work even harder to make up for this. It means less privileges until you have regained my trust.”

“I will do anything you want me to do,” Ivan insisted, eyes blazing.

Munch looked at him, long and hard, until he finally sighed in defeat. “Fine. That will be all then, Braginsky. Go tell Jones I’ll be expecting him in class at the start of next semester.”

Ivan nearly made the mistake of hugging the other, remembered him to be his boss, and settled on a brilliant smile. “I will not disappoint you. _We_ will not disappoint you.”

“And don’t forget!” Munch called after him as he skidded out the door, suddenly filled with enough energy to sprint around the globe.

Munch sank back into his chair, rubbing his temples. His eye fell on the picture standing next to his laptop, showing a happy young couple and their two children.

“Hanging around with young adults every day is starting to make me sentimental, Martha,” he chuckled, picking up the frame to give it a loving rub. “I’m supposed to be a man of reason, and here I am, giving in to the folly of youth…” And when he made sure no one was standing outside his door, he placed a quick kiss to the photograph.

* * *

Alfred looked at his watch again. His parents were late. They said they’d be here by two, and it was already nearing three in the afternoon. (He didn’t know Kiku had intercepted them at the front door and was currently taking the couple on a tour through the city.)

Alfred sighed, shoving his phone back into the pocket of his favourite jeans, the pair he’d worn on the day he’d first decided to try and impress Ivan Braginsky, the pair he’d worn plenty of times since in an attempt to get Ivan to notice his butt. Well, maybe it had worked, maybe it hadn’t, who was to say?

Alfred tried to think of something else, because every time Ivan’s face popped into his mind he could feel a hot pang in his stomach. He didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret dating Ivan, nor jumping in to save his job. He’d save anyone if he were given the opportunity; it was simply in his nature. He only wished he could erase that moment of realisation from yesterday’s events, forever tainting his memory of what they’d had together. Ivan had tried calling him plenty of times today, but Alfred simply wasn’t ready to hear his voice, possibly listen to excuses or…or goodbyes. Alfred hated goodbyes.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Finally! Without checking through the intercom, Alfred opened the front door to the building and waited for his parents to move up to his floor. He wasn’t expecting any other company today, anyway.

Alfred wasn’t sure yet what he was going to do after this. Study something else, probably. He couldn’t just leave Kiku behind with the rent after all, and it was the sensible thing to do. But right now he just wanted to be home, crawl into his bed and stay there for however long he needed. Mattie would probably be able to drop by before the start of the new semester. Maybe they could play some games and visit the places they always went to when they were kids. Take a little break from reality.

Someone knocked on the door, and Alfred sauntered over to open it. He couldn’t find the will to put on his usual smile today, but he figured his parents would understand. He only hoped their faces wouldn’t read too much disappointment over their son getting kicked out.

Opening the door was like getting punched in the stomach. It wasn’t his mother or father standing there, but a considerably out-of-breath Ivan Braginsky. Pretty much the last person he had expected to stand there.

“Alfred,” Ivan said, and something tender broke out in his face as he began smiling, seeming unable to stop himself from doing so.

Alfred felt a familiar warmth blossom in his stomach, but this time it was overshadowed by a distressed confusion. “What—“ He coughed into his hand, stepped back, feigned casualty. Ivan couldn’t know how he truly felt. “What are you doing here?” he asked, semi-nonchalantly, keeping the twitching of his mouth and trembling of his fingers to a minimum. He shoved his hands into his pockets to hide his agitation.

Alfred stepped back when Ivan stepped forward, heart thundering by the time Ivan had fully entered the apartment, giving Alfred a strange, intense look. For a moment Alfred felt overwhelmed by fear—Ivan wouldn’t…would he? But then Ivan looked at his feet, as if steeling his nerves, and Alfred relaxed a bit more. _Of course not, stupid_. _Now get a hold of yourself_. He could trust Ivan. Even if it hadn’t meant more to him, Alfred could at least trust the guy. Which still didn’t explain his presence.

“Alfred,” Ivan repeated, turning his gaze up, making Alfred shudder with its ferocious earnestness. “I have spoken with professor Munch. You do not have to leave.”

Alfred’s eyes widened. “Wa—? But yesterday, he was so mad at us!”

Ivan shook his head. “ _Da_ , but he was mostly mad at me. And a little…startled, I suppose.” He chuckled, but Alfred couldn’t find it in himself to join in.

“So then…I get to continue my studies? Are you serious? This isn’t a joke, right?”

“I think you should know by now that I do not make jokes about work or college,” Ivan said with one quirked eyebrow.

Alfred nodded; true. But then… “Wait, does that mean that you—“

“I get to stay as well.”

Alfred’s confusion was only rising, and he knew he no longer looked nonchalant. “I don’t get it. So, you get to stay, and I get to stay.”

Ivan nodded.

“How’d you get him to agree to that? Did you give him money?”

“I would never bribe a professor,” Ivan said indignantly.

“T-then,” Alfred continued, mind immediately jumping to all the wrong places. “Did you—“

“I only _spoke_ with him,” Ivan said curtly, a look of disgust flashing across his features. “I am almost insulted that you think that way of me.”

“I don’t know!” Alfred wailed, upset. “Hell, maybe I’ve awoken some sort of crazy sex beast within you, and now you’d do it with anyone—“

“ _Alfred_.”

Alfred quickly snapped his mouth shut. Ivan was _not_ looking happy.

“I did _not_ come here to be called some perverted maniac, thank you. I came here to tell you the happy news, and…” He growled, dragged a hand through his ashen locks in a sudden gesture of exhaustion, or perhaps it was nervousness? Alfred could no longer tell. “Dammit! I should have just started with that! This is not how I had planned…”

“You want coffee?” Alfred quickly jumped in. Apparently Ivan wanted to tell him something else. Alfred felt like he didn’t really want to hear it.

“I—what?” Ivan was taken back by the sudden change of topic.

“Or lemonade, or I _guess_ I could try make you some tea,” Alfred quickly continued. “I’m not that good with tea though, I always manage to let it sit too long or not long enough.” He began walking towards the kitchen, and Ivan stared after him for a moment before jerking into action and following.

“No, I am not thirsty, I simply—“

“You know, my parents will be here any minute, you probably don’t wanna meet ‘em, meeting parents is always weird right?” Alfred had begun to babble. He was a little annoyed that Ivan was simply following him, couldn’t he get a hint? Alfred had already sort of broken up with him, there was no need of putting it into words again. “Oh yeah, guess I can tell ‘em the good news then…”

“Alfred, I really need to talk with you about something—“

“Oh yeah, I still have your sweater from last time, guess I’ll give it back. Sorry, haven’t gotten around to washing it yet, but I can—“

“Alfred!”

Alfred was suddenly spun around and trapped against the wall, Ivan’s hands firmly planted to either side of his head. There was no ignoring those beautiful violet eyes now, looking both angry and…and _what_? What was it?

“Alfred Foster Jones, you will listen to what I have to say!”

“Okay!” Alfred quickly peeped, and he flinched only a little when Ivan took in a breath, preparing himself for the inevitable blow. He could take it, he was strong enough… Wasn’t his first rodeo, after all. He’d told Ivan so himself. Oh wait—Ivan was already talking. He could see his lips move, but failed to register the sounds.

Alfred blinked owlishly. “Uh, sorry, could you repeat that?”

Ivan growled, cheeks painted pink. “I am in love with you.”

Ah, now he could hear it. Or wait, apparently there was still something wrong with his ears. Because there was _no_ fucking way that Ivan Braginsky had said anything like that.

Alfred let out a little breathless laugh. “Yeah, I really don’t think I’m hearing—“

“Alfred, I will say this a thousand times if that is what it takes for it to reach you: I am in love with you! Alfred Foster Jones, I love you! I do not just want you for the sex, I want _all_ of you! It couldn’t be anyone _but_ you, and I need you to believe me when I tell you this!”

Okay, his ears were definitely broken. And there also seemed to be something wrong with his heart, as it was dancing the French can-can despite there being no way that Ivan Braginsky had really just told him that.

“Okay no,” Alfred laughed, and he could feel the corners of his mouth slowly turning up. “I _really_ need you to say that again, because there’s just something wrong with this line.”

Ivan scowled, seemed about to snap, but then his eyes widened. And then he smiled.

“Alfred, I love you.”

“Okay,” Alfred laughed, “one more time, I’m almost one-hundred percent sure I’ll be able to hear it this time.”

Ivan began letting out soft laughter as well, shaking his shoulders, eyes starting to fill with mirth. “I want you to be my boyfriend, and go on dates with you.”

“What’s that? I swear, there’s so much white noise!”

“I want to watch movies with you and just hold your hand and listen to you talk about the things you are passionate about.”

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re saying some pretty interesting stuff, but just, one more time! This time for sure!”

Oh, it felt so good to laugh like this; the both of them were almost doubling over as semi-hysterical bursts wracked their bodies, holding on to the other’s shoulders for dear life. Alfred felt so happy he could cry, or could jump from a building and spontaneously grow wings to fly into the sun with (and survive it of course, because he’d be a superhuman in this particular setting). It felt so good hearing Ivan say the things he’d most wanted to hear, all the while laughing like a maniac, laughing a true, authentic, let-everything-go laugh. And then suddenly he _really_ felt like kissing him.

Ivan seemed to come to the same conclusion at the exact same moment; their eyes met, and the next thing Alfred knew was that he had slid down to the ground with Ivan hanging over his sagging body, kissing him as if their lives depended on it. It was such a powerful and heated kiss that it completely drained him, all emotions that had passed through his body these last 24 hours being sucked out by those lips as soft as feathers and as warm as a thousand suns. Kissing Ivan made him feel complete, made all his worries disappear.

Ivan loved him. The world was rosy again.

Ivan pulled away after what felt like a second but must have at least been a couple of minutes, the kiss having lasted both the bat of an eye and an entire lifetime. He was sending Alfred a gentle smile, all hooded eyes and flushed cheeks, and Alfred smiled back, still overwhelmed. It was only then that the tears came, both happy and sad, but mostly relieved. Ivan’s eyes widened, but then he immediately bent down to kiss the salty drops trickling down his cheeks.

“I am sorry for not saying this earlier. I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Alfred hiccupped, cupping Ivan’s cheek, before pulling him down for another kiss, this one less passionate, all the more sweet.

When Ivan pulled away again, Alfred sniffled a bit, and quickly wiped under his nose when the other looked up. And then froze. Alfred didn’t quite understand why, until his boyfriend (boyfriend!) spoke.

“Ah—good afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Jones! I am Ivan Braginsky, a...Alfred’s, um…”

Alfred’s head immediately snapped to the side, following Ivan’s gaze to land on his parents, Kiku hiding behind their bodies. Both had an unreadable expression on their face.

Oh great. This would only happen to him. Them.

Grabbing Ivan’s hand and giving it a quick squeeze, Alfred plastered on his million-watt smile.

“Hi mom, hi dad! Soooooo, turns-out-I’m-not-getting-kicked-out-of-college-oh-yeah-and-this-is-my-boyfriend-did-I-tell-you-I-was-gay-yet-I-honestly-can’t-remember!”

Ivan squeezed back, and Alfred could almost hear him gulping. Still, he felt happy.

Whatever were to happen next, he knew this was the start of something beautiful.

For he had finally found somebody to love and be loved by in return.

Someone super-duper hot at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End


End file.
